Banshee Song: Book One
by lowdergirl
Summary: (Broe) Broe recover their past lives when they battle Stefano Dimera. Book One Finished!
1. Default Chapter

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Author's Note  
  
I heavily questioned whether or not I should write this fic. My main concern was that it might be too much fantasy to fit in the Days' Universe. Then I realized, this is Days of our Lives, where people can be possessed by Satan and where the laws of time and space have no bearing on reality and where a child born five years ago can be seventeen today. So here we are. I ask that you keep an open mind, and if you are confused, just hang on, I will explain everything. A great deal of secrets will be revealed and questions answered. This fic will be divided into three books and is a sequel to Truth Out Of Darkness. If you haven't read TOOD, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Read it now.  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
"Double Murder Baffles Police." Lexie disgustedly threw the newspaper onto the fine leather sofa in the living room of the Dimera mansion.  
  
"This is hardly news. The Salem police are always baffled by something." Stefano remarked with a wry smile. He stifled a chuckle at the sight of his anxious daughter.  
  
Lexie paced the floor, nervously wringing her well-manicured hands. "They're going to trace this back to me. I know it." She bit her lip in anxious thought. {How did I get in this mess? All I wanted was a child of my own.} {You listened to your father, the most hated man in all of Salem.} a small voice of conscience echoed in her head. She had simply stood back while her father arranged everything. The adoption of Marlo's baby, Marlo's 'accident', the plan to switch the baby with Hope Brady's child. She had acquiesced to his plans; after all, she would do anything if it meant having a child to love and raise. Anything at all. And it had gone so well.  
  
Until the Reibers came back to town. Barb had somehow found out her secret, that the boy that Hope and Bo were raising was not theirs, but instead belonged to Glen. Which meant that the child that Lexie and Abe had adopted was in fact Hope's. Barb had been blackmailing Lexie for a cool two million dollars to keep the secret. And as if that wasn't enough, she had to deal with John and Hope's growing suspicions.  
  
Her first order of business was to take care of Hope. She planned a lavish 'Mother of the Year' party for her at the stately Dimera mansion. While Hope was at the party, she would be bombarded with memories of her life as Princess Gina. The desired result was that Hope would then be too busy simply trying to stay sane to question Isaac and J.T.'s parentage.  
  
That was the plan. But unfortunately for Lexie, things didn't work out that way. Barb's incessant threats and demands for money at the party so rattled Lexie that she was barely able to maintain control of Hope. And then, at literally the last second, Rolf's memory control device completely broke down, ruining all of their plans for the evening. And Barb was still threatening to unleash all of Lexie's secrets.  
  
Lexie had no choice but to give in to her demands. The day after the party, Lexie gave Barb several pieces of priceless jewelry that Stefano had given her. Their value was well over $ 2 million. Barb and Glen Reiber promptly left town with their new windfall.  
  
Shortly afterwards, the day after Christmas, Stefano abruptly reappeared in Salem. It wasn't long after that Barb and Glen were found murdered in their hotel room, just outside of Salem. The police were ruling it a robbery gone wrong, since all of their money and valuables had been taken. However, they had yet to find a suspect. But many in Salem had begun to draw their own conclusions, all of them aimed directly at Lexie Carver. Or as many had begun to call her, Alexandra Dimera.  
  
Stefano calmly walked to the brandy decanter and poured a little of the amber liquid into a glass. He took several deliberately slow sips, while a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Lexie continued to fret. "They are going to find out. Hope is going to find out that Isaac is hers, and they are going to take my baby away from me!" She looked at her father in disbelief. "How can you be so calm?"  
  
He simply replied. "I am calm, because I am in control. Everything is going according to plan."  
  
"Your plan. Are you going to fill me in on this plan?"  
  
"All in good time, Alexandra, dear. All in good time. In the meantime, you are to go about your normal routine. Do not worry about the gossip mongers, or the police. I have ensured that there is no evidence to lead to you."  
  
"And what about John and Hope?"  
  
Stefano permitted a small smile to form on his lips. "Do not worry about John Black or Hope Brady. Soon, they will be too busy with their own problems to worry about Isaac and J.T." 


	2. Chapter Two

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
"So how have you been doing since our last session?" Marlena asked gently.  
  
Chloe reclined casually on the couch in Marlena's office. She had been seeing Marlena regularly for the last two months since Christmas and was now quite comfortable in session. "Hmm, okay. I'm kinda tired, though. I didn't get much sleep this week."  
  
Marlena jotted down a quick note. "Are you still having the dreams?"  
  
Chloe shuddered involuntarily. Ever since her foster father Aaron Moore abducted and nearly killed her, she had been plagued by horribly vivid nightmares. The dreams varied. In one version, Brady never came and Moore killed her, but not before torturing and raping her. That was actually the good dream. In the other dream, Brady saved her life by jumping into the path of a bullet meant for her. She saw it a thousand times in painfully slow motion. She watched his body jerk as the bullet ripped mercilessly through him. She saw the pain and sadness in his eyes as he realized that he was dying. She heard his last word, softly whispered in a choked voice, 'goodbye'. In her dream, she cradled his cold, lifeless body and was racked by a familiar pain from long ago. Her heart broke as she felt him slipping away and every time she awoke with his name on her lips as she called out to his soul one last time. The dream absolutely terrified her because it seemed so real. She could actually feel her heart break- rip apart.  
  
Chloe inhaled deeply and pushed the unpleasant visions from her mind. "Actually, I haven't had those dreams in awhile. This is a totally new dream."  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
"Well, this dream is much better than the previous ones, but it is somewhat disturbing, kinda weird. It's funny; I guess my upcoming Julliard auditions are starting to freak me out. In my dream, I'm singing in front of the judges and everything is going very well. My voice sounds great, like it has never been before. I don't know the song, but it seems strangely familiar. Anyway, before long, I get the feeling that something is going wrong. I'm scared and the judges are scared, and I can't stop singing. The song changes and becomes… I don't know, dark. And then the judges explode."  
  
"Explode?"  
  
"Yeah, body parts everywhere. Like they were hit by some kind of shock wave coming from me, from my voice."  
  
"What happens next?"  
  
"I wake up in a cold sweat. And then I spend the next few hours worrying about my auditions."  
  
"What do you think the dream means?"  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes. "I knew you were going to ask me that. I'm just nervous about the auditions. Julliard has been my dream my whole life, and now it's here – and I'm just afraid… that I won't get in… that I will get in. I'm also worried because I've been having problems singing lately."  
  
Marlena looked at her, concern visible on her face. "What do you mean? You aren't still hurting from your injuries, are you?"  
  
Chloe paled noticeably, remembering the injuries that Moore had given her. Besides the cracked ribs, punctured lung, and concussion she suffered as a result of his savage beatings, he also shot her in the shoulder, shattering her shoulder bone.  
  
"No, I'm completely healed, well, except for my shoulder. I've accepted that it will probably always give me a little trouble. No, my voice is fine; I'm hitting all the right notes, everything is technically perfect. It's something most people wouldn't be able to notice, but Brady picked up on it immediately. Brady helps me by listening to me practice and critiquing my performance. He has a great ear. I can't describe what's wrong with my singing – there's just something off – and it's a big something. If I can't figure out what it is and fix it before the audition, then I might not make it in. And I guess that's why I'm having this dream."  
  
Marlena nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I know nothing about music, but I do know that you have been through a great deal lately. Two months ago you almost died and it has been a long, hard road to where you are now. You have overcome so much both physically and emotionally in a very short period of time. Give it time. I'm sure that whatever is wrong will fix itself. Don't worry so much about it; just continue to focus on healing, and getting better. That is your number one priority – everything else will fall into place."  
  
"Okay." Chloe digested the advice. She knew Marlena was right. It was unrealistic to expect everything to be perfect after all that she had endured. In fact, it was nothing short of miraculous that she had made it this far. She wouldn't have survived without her friends, her family, Brady.  
  
"So, besides the dreams, how are you doing?" Marlena asked.  
  
"I'm actually, … okay. It's amazing; I didn't think I'd make it through those first few weeks. The memories and nightmares were non-stop, and so,… vivid. At times, it was all I could do to leave my bed, much less the safety of my room. Sometimes, I still feel his presence in my room. Just because I know he was there, it's like he left behind some kind of emotional stain, marking where he has been, marking everything he touched. Those first few days at school, I would not have made it through without Belle and Shawn. Those two were my lifeline. Still are, actually. Sami has also been a big help, surprisingly. I followed her advice and I've been writing some in the journal Belle got me. I wrote a kind of poem weeks ago, but have only now felt like sharing it. I wrote it one night after a particularly bad nightmare, and I was still kind of half asleep so half of it doesn't make much sense. Anyway, here." Chloe handed Marlena her journal.  
  
Marlena read the poem and then reread it.  
  
  
  
I can't find you  
  
Stay where you are  
  
I'm in the dark  
  
Stay where you are  
  
She's dead if you want and that's me if you want  
  
Stuffed in the corner, little girl lost  
  
I cry and I scratch and I beg and I scream  
  
I just need you to save me one last time  
  
It's me if you want but it's not what I want  
  
I want to burn up the place set it on fire  
  
And she's back 'cause she wants to not be contained  
  
I can't tell the truth, I can't speak this way  
  
"This is very good, Chloe. I'm glad to see you expressing what happened to you in this way. It is very healthy to get it out of your system, and if you can use an art form to do so, than it is even better." Marlena paused in thought. "Chloe, you have progressed a great deal in our sessions, and I feel that we no longer need these weekly meetings. I would like to cut back to once a month. Of course, I am available if you feel you need the sessions more often, but I don't think you do. On that note, I believe we are done today, and we will schedule for this time next month, okay?"  
  
"Okay!" Chloe said happily. She gave Marlena a deep hug upon leaving the room.  
  
  
  
  
  
A\N: the poem isn't a poem. It's a song. And Chloe didn't write it, unless she happens to be a member of the grrrl punk-rock group "Sleater Kinney" Because they wrote it. And they rock! 


	3. Chapter Three

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
Chloe exited Marlena's office and immediately bumped into Dr. Colin Murphy.  
  
"Chloe!" he exclaimed with a pleasant smile. "Just finishing another session?"  
  
"Yes. Good news – we're going to cut back, I only have to come in once a month now." Chloe replied easily. She had seen a great deal of Colin in the previous months as he worked to repair her worst injuries. She still continued to see him regularly for check-ups and to follow up with her progress. He was quickly becoming one of her favorite people; he was just so warm and easy to talk to. He seemed to go out of his way to make sure she was okay.  
  
"Well, that's great!" he replied, his voice a mix of Irish and Australian accents. "I know that going to therapy hasn't been easy for you." He looked at her, his face a portrait of concern. "So, how are you doing? Is your shoulder still acting up?"  
  
"No worse than usual. It depends on the weather; it hurts most when it's cold or wet out. Mostly, it only hurts when I overuse the muscles, like in my self-defense class."  
  
Colin nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that will get better over time. Already, you have healed a great deal. Most people would be in much worse condition after suffering the extreme injuries that you have. Your progress has been nothing short of remarkable."  
  
Chloe didn't know how to respond to the compliment. She shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I've always bounced back quickly from an injury or illness. In fact, I rarely get sick, and when I do, it's never for long."  
  
"Must be nice." Colin quipped. "If more people were like you, then I'd be out of a job." He paused slightly. "Carl tells me that you are making great progress in physical therapy."  
  
Chloe stifled the urge to laugh at the thought of Carl. She would never forget the look on his face when he learned that she and Brady were his newest patients. He had yelled at Brady, "You! AGAIN! What the HELL is wrong with you?! You know, most people manage to go their entire lives without being shot once. You've been shot twice. TWICE! And you got your girlfriend shot too!"  
  
Brady threw his hands up in protest, and tried not to laugh. "Hey, this is not my fault! I was coming to the rescue. It's her fault!" he said with a grin at Chloe. Brady only had to see Carl twice, but Chloe continued to go once a week, although it looked as if she would be able to cut back on that too.  
  
Chloe replied to Colin, "Carl's been really great; he's helped a great deal."  
  
"So when are your auditions?" Colin asked. He knew that they were foremost on her mind.  
  
Chloe inhaled deeply at the mention of her dreaded auditions. "In a few weeks. I'm so nervous; I just don't think I'll be ready."  
  
"Oh, you'll be great. With a voice like yours, how can they possibly turn you away?"  
  
Chloe smiled hesitantly. If only she could be as sure.  
  
Chloe looked up to see Colin smiling down on her warmly. She was puzzled to see a myriad of emotions swirling in his dark brown eyes. Concern, pride, fear, love. Chloe backed away from him. "Um, well, I've got to go or I'll be late for my self-defense class."  
  
Colin composed himself quickly and the clinical mask settled once again over his features. "Okay, Chloe, I'll see you at your next appointment."  
  
Nancy watched Chloe walk away from Colin. She had observed closely their encounter, noticed the look in his eyes. She came up beside him and said lowly, "We need to talk."  
  
  
  
They stepped into Colin's office and closed the door behind them. Nancy immediately spoke up, her calm voice belying the emotional turmoil inside her.  
  
"I saw that, just now, the look in your eyes. Even more, Chloe saw it too. Could you try being MORE obvious next time?" her voice rose, despite her attempts to keep it low. "Have you forgotten why you are here, why I got you this position? It is to keep her safe! If people start putting two and two together and figure out who you are, or more importantly, who she is, then we can kiss her safety goodbye!"  
  
Colin whirled on Nancy, his voice a study of deadly calm. "I know that Nancy. I have not for one moment forgotten why I am here." He looked at her and softened. "You're right, Nance. It's just (sighs) so hard to be around her, and not reveal myself. There's so much I want to tell her, about her life, her family, her history."  
  
"Craig and I are her family. We are all the family she needs." Nancy replied firmly.  
  
Colin smirked. "You haven't changed a bit in 17 years. You're still too damn stubborn for your own good." He sighed in resignation. "You know, Nance, you can't hide the truth from her forever. Eventually, she will know who she is, and where she comes from. But I agree. She can't know yet. No one can. And you're right again. I slipped up just now, with Chloe. I can't afford to make that mistake again. Especially now that Dimera's back in town. I'm sure by now he knows I'm here, and he's probably wondering why." Colin rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  
  
"Well, that's where your medical degree comes in, along with your relation to the Bradys. You are just a doctor who was looking for a job here in America and you decided to move here to be near your family." Nancy reassured him. They had put a great deal of effort into creating a believable cover story. One that would even convince the ever-suspicious Stefano Dimera.  
  
Colin nodded slightly. "Still, I wish I knew why he was here. He's not the type of person to do anything on a whim. He's here for a reason – he's planning something. I just know it."  
  
Nancy's eyes grew wide with fear. "Do you think he knows?"  
  
"I don't know. I don't see how he could. He hasn't had any contact with her, has he?"  
  
Nancy thought hard. "No, I don't believe he has. Trust me, I wouldn't have let him anywhere near her. No, I think he's here for an entirely different reason, one that has nothing to do with Chloe."  
  
"Well, I could always have my 'friends' monitor his activities, just to be sure." Colin suggested.  
  
"Yes, and you could send up a flashing neon sign that reads ' we are here.' No, what we have to do is go on as before, as normally as possible. Don't worry about Chloe, Craig and I will protect her."  
  
Colin laughed mirthlessly. "Don't worry. Yeah, right. She's my –."  
  
A loud knock on the door interrupted them.  
  
"Come in."  
  
Craig opened the door while absentmindedly flipping through some patient charts. "Sorry to intrude, Colin, but have you seen Mrs. Weatherly's test results? I swear that woman is the biggest hypochondriac I've ever met." He looked up and noticed Nancy. "Nancy?"  
  
Nancy immediately shifted into bubbly flirtatious mode. She flashed a brilliant smile at Colin. "Oh, Craig, I was just telling Colin how much I enjoyed seeing him and his fiancée at the Christmas Ball and I was thinking that we should have some kind of grand party, like Lexie's, and invite all of Salem's elite. I haven't had much of an opportunity to entertain guests and you know how much I love to entertain. Or we could have a small, elegant dinner party with fine catered food. I bet we could get Tuscany to cater for us – wouldn't that be divine? We'd be the talk of the town!"  
  
Craig smiled. Sometimes he couldn't believe that he was married to this woman. "Nancy, honey, take a breath okay? We'll talk about this later."  
  
"Okay, Craig. Well, I've got to get busy on my paperwork. Colin, you think about what I said, okay?" she flashed another bright smile and left the office.  
  
She paused on the other side of the closed door and sighed, her countenance once again sober. {I'll do whatever it takes to protect you, Chloe. Whatever it takes.} 


	4. Chapter Four

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
"One, two, three. KIYAI! One, two, three. KIYAI!" Chloe yelled as she completed her series of snap kicks. She looked over beside her at her best friend Belle who was energetically bouncing along with the class. {I think her favorite part is the yelling.} Chloe thought to herself with a smile. Belle was easily the loudest person in the small gym.  
  
"Okay, good. Next, sweep kicks. And Go!" their instructor yelled. John and his son Brady began teaching self-defense shortly after Chloe's ordeal. Marlena had suggested it to give Chloe an outlet for her anger and frustration. She and John were also concerned that the girls would be going off to college soon. They had heard the terrifying statistics, that in the four years of college, a girl had a one in four chance of being sexually assaulted. John had quipped semi-jokingly, "Given the kids' knack for getting themselves into trouble, we need to teach them how to defend themselves."  
  
It was a small, informal class, made up primarily of Chloe, Belle, Mimi and Shawn. There were also a few Salem High students, as well as students from nearby Salem University. Chloe glanced at Mimi, who was already sweating profusely. She watched as Mimi clumsily threw her leg up in the air, nearly knocking over Shawn. Chloe chuckled to herself. Mimi wasn't the most graceful person in the class, but she stubbornly stuck to it, working as hard as she could to learn the movements. Chloe was impressed by her tenacity.  
  
Chloe, on the other hand, was grace and strength personified. She learned each new move with ease, adding it to her growing repertoire of strikes and kicks. Marlena had been right. Chloe had been blindsided by the amount of unexpressed rage and fury she held inside. The class allowed her to unleash everything she was feeling. Every time she kicked the sandbag, she saw his face. Every strike she threw at the workout dummy was aimed at him, her foster father. The bastard who nearly ruined her life years ago and nearly ended it months ago. He was the main drive behind her desire to get stronger, and the reason that she continued to improve.  
  
Of course, it also didn't hurt that Brady assisted in the class. He usually wore a thick, padded suit and acted as the attacker, while the students practiced various moves on him. Now, however, he was dressed in the usual uniform of black, loose fitting pants and black tank top.  
  
"Okay, great job." John praised them. "Tonight, we have a special instructor. She's a friend of mine from New York and her name is Carlyn Spenser. She has traveled all around the world and is a master of many martial arts disciplines. Tonight, she will be teaching you some self- defense techniques that are more extreme than what I have been showing you. These moves are very dangerous, and very damaging. ONLY use them in an extreme, life and death situation. Here she is."  
  
The students were somewhat amazed by their guest instructor. {This is a master martial artist?} She looked barely twenty-four, but her aura and stance showed a hardened maturity that went beyond her youth. She was simply dressed in black, and her long, auburn hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail.  
  
"Good evening. The four most important words you need to know for self- defense are eyes, knees, groin, and throat. Those are the four best targets on the human body. They are very vulnerable, and injuries inflicted in these places are debilitating, if only temporarily. I will demonstrate on this dummy."  
  
"Eyes." The students grimaced as Carlyn shoved her thumbs into the padded eye sockets. "If your attacker can't see you, he can't chase you."  
  
"Knees." She aimed a swift heel kick to the dummy's knee. The students groaned when the plastic joint popped. "If he can't walk, he can't run after you."  
  
"Groin." She kicked the dummy in the groin with a devastating front snap kick. The men winced in sympathetic pain. "Self-explanatory."  
  
"Throat." She knocked the dummy's Adam's apple in with a sharp knife-edge blow. "If he can't breathe, he can't run."  
  
She faced the class again. "Notice I talk about the attacker chasing or running after you. That's because you are long gone. This isn't about fighting your attacker, because truth is, in an actual fight, your attacker is going to win. This is a hardened criminal who has been fighting all his life. There is no way you can take him, so don't even try. Performing a neat trick in class is one thing, fighting for your life on the street is another. This is about surprising your attacker; doing enough damage to him with one blow, so that you can get far away while he's still recovering. Strike, and run. Don't stick around. Do not try to be a hero."  
  
The class continued with the students learning and practicing the moves Carlyn showed them. Then Chloe and Brady paired up for a demonstration of grappling techniques. This was her favorite part. Chloe's most enjoyable moments lately had been while sparring with Brady.  
  
Chloe practiced the throw that she had learned last time. As Brady moved to attack her, she sidestepped while grabbing his wrist. She slowly turned her body away from him while moving his arm in a circle high in the air. Then, once her back was in his chest and his arm was high above her, she used his momentum to throw him over her shoulder to the mat below. She grinned at him wickedly.  
  
"Very nice." Brady commented dryly from his position on the floor. "But you're forgetting the first rule we learned in class. Don't drop your guard." And with that statement, Brady quickly swept her legs out from under her and she fell backwards to land harmlessly on the thick mat. Brady quickly pinned her beneath him, his face reflecting back her own wicked grin.  
  
Chloe cried out in pain. Brady immediately paled and moved off of her. "Chloe, what is it? Is it your shoulder? Oh, I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful."  
  
"Heh, heh, sucker." Chloe teased as she knocked Brady off of his feet. She then pinned him, locking his arms and legs so he couldn't move. "Now what was that you were saying? Something about not dropping your guard?" she laughed in his ear.  
  
"That was mean." Brady said sourly.  
  
"Yes, it certainly was." She smiled back at him.  
  
"Okay, you two. Get off each other. Others would like to use the mat too." John said good-naturedly.  
  
They reluctantly moved away from each other as Brady went to assist the next student. Chloe went to chat with Belle. Belle noticed Chloe rubbing her shoulder.  
  
"You weren't kidding just now, were you?" Belle asked, concerned that she was still having so much trouble with her shoulder. She hadn't realized that the injury had been so severe.  
  
"I was mostly. It always gets a little sore in class. I'm just working it too hard."  
  
"I don't know how you can stand it, having all those metal pins in there. The scar still looks so bad."  
  
"Thanks, Belle. It's not so bad. Colin and Carl both say that it will get better. I'm very lucky. I should have been in the hospital for a week. Anyway, I'm having fun setting off the metal detectors at school."  
  
Belle laughed. "You are so weird."  
  
"Just now figuring that out? So, have you thought yet about where you want to go to college?"  
  
Belle smiled and blushed slightly. "Actually, Shawn and I are thinking of Pepperdine."  
  
"In California? Whoa. Together? Whoa again. That's a pretty big step."  
  
Belle nodded. "Yeah, it is. I mean, I'm not going just for him; it is a great school, but he is the primary reason why I want to go there over any other school. It's just, to me, it doesn't matter where I get my degree from, as long as we can be together."  
  
Belle sighed happily. "I love him so much. I cannot imagine things getting any better for us. I really think that we'll be together for the rest of our lives."  
  
"Oh, Belle, I wish both of you the best. I'm so happy for you." Chloe smiled.  
  
Belle looked at Chloe. "What about you? Have you and Brady talked about the future?"  
  
"Right now the future consists of getting into Julliard. That is all I can think about. Brady and I, we've gotten so close lately, despite everything we've been through. Or maybe because of it. But we are still taking it very slowly; I have a lot still to work overcome, and this audition is one of them. Speaking of which, this class is over and Brady and I have to practice my songs. I'll talk to you later, okay?"  
  
They hugged quickly and said their goodbyes. Belle contentedly watched her friend and her brother leave together, hand in hand. {I hope that Shawn and I can always be like that} she smiled to herself, and then went to find her boyfriend. 


	5. Chapter Five

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Five  
  
"No, No, NO!" Brady cried in frustration while shutting off the CD player. "That was horrible!" he said simply as he paced.  
  
Chloe cringed at his harsh words, bitter tears stinging her eyes. "I know." Her shoulders drooped sadly.  
  
They were in Brady's new apartment. It was actually the old loft where John and Isabella had lived when Brady was born. John gave it to Brady as a Christmas present so that he could be there for Chloe without her having to come to their crowded penthouse. Also he knew that Brady was ready for a place of his own; a place where he could blast that noise he called music anytime he wanted to. Chloe had spent many hours here practicing for her audition. The acoustics in the loft were wonderful, providing a full, open sound.  
  
Brady continued pacing the living room. "I just don't understand. I thought we had gotten past this. When we sang together at the Christmas ball your voice was so free and full of powerful emotion. It's like it could lift you up and carry you away with it, up to the highest skies. But now, your voice is like when I first met you. Worse even, if that's possible."  
  
Brady had always harshly criticized her singing in the past. It wasn't that it was bad; on the contrary her voice was beautiful, technically perfect. But while she had a beautiful sound, it was the soul of her song that was missing. The emotion, the driving force behind all music was noticeably absent, leaving her song flat, lifeless. Brady and Chloe had worked hard since last summer to change that, and had some wonderful breakthroughs. When they sang together at the ball, it was like all the walls that Chloe had built around her heart had exploded outwardly with the force of her song. For the first time she expressed her emotions, herself in her song. And the result had been magic.  
  
But now, for some reason, those walls were back up. There wasn't an ounce of emotion in her voice. It was dead. And had been for weeks. Her impromptu performance at the Christmas dinner in the Brady Pub was the last time she had been able to sing with any emotion. It was like the soul of her music was gone, and she didn't know how to get it back.  
  
Chloe stood there silently, listening to his words. She was just as upset as he. She didn't know what she was doing wrong, doing differently. Frustrated tears silently spilled out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.  
  
Brady stopped in front of her and tenderly held her face with his hands. His thumbs gently wiped her tears from her cheeks. He gave her a small smile. "I'm not mad at you; I know you're trying your hardest. I'm just frustrated at this situation. Chloe, tell me what's wrong, why you can't sing. Is it something left over from the ordeal you suffered earlier? Some kind of psychic trauma caused by Moore's attack? What's wrong?" He stared intently into her eyes as if trying to read the secrets in her mind.  
  
"I don't know!" she cried, her chin trembling. "I don't know what's wrong. I just can't sing. I try to reach my emotions, tap my feelings and there's this… block there. I just can't do it. I'm never going to get into Julliard." She said dejectedly.  
  
"Hey, don't talk like that." He smiled at her as he lifted her drooped chin. He gently kissed the tears from her cheeks, letting his soft, rough lips linger momentarily on her soft skin. "You will get into Julliard, we just have to find out what the problem is. And I think I know what it is." He said, as he gazed thoughtfully into her wide eyes.  
  
He paused briefly before continuing. "All your life you've had a dream, to be a great opera star. That dream was your haven, your mental escape from the harsh reality around you. It was safe, because it wasn't real, it was just a fantasy. But now, you're taking your first step toward making that dream a reality, and you're scared. Now the safe dream is becoming real and there's risk involved. You're afraid of failing. You're afraid of succeeding. And so maybe, subconsciously, you are blocking your emotions from your songs, trying to sabotage your dream, so you don't have to face your fears."  
  
Chloe quietly considered his words. She murmured softly, "Nothing's ever worked out for me before, why should it start now?" Maybe Brady was right; maybe she doesn't want to perform well at the audition. If she failed she could just give up and say, 'oh well, I tried.'  
  
Brady once again lifted her chin, forcing her to look in his eyes. "Granted, the first fifteen years of your life sucked, but even you have to admit that things are pretty good now. For the first time in your life you have friends and family, people who love you. You have struggled back from a horrible ordeal and now you are standing on a precipice, your entire life before you, and people behind you supporting you. You aren't going to fall. You're going to fly, you're going to soar."  
  
He smiled his reassurance down at her. "You are going to go to that audition and you are going to blow those judges away."  
  
Chloe stifled a laugh. "If I don't blow them up." She explained to Brady about her dream. He looked at her for a long moment and then began to chuckle softly. Soon his chuckles became full-blown laughter. Chloe chimed in with him. They laughed together for a few minutes, letting their earlier frustration melt off.  
  
"The judges exploded? Oh Chloe, I see now I've been working you too hard." He wiped his eyes and looked at her. "I don't want you to worry about your audition or your singing, okay? Just focus on getting better. You've come such a long way already. It wasn't that long ago that you were dying."  
  
Unbidden memories echoed in Brady's mind. The image of her half-naked, bloodied, broken body continued to haunt him. He paled visibly, remembering that scary night fighting for their lives against a crazed Dr. Moore, and then later in the hospital, waiting breathlessly for news on Chloe's condition. Her injuries were many and severe. He had been so close to losing her. He would never forget the paralyzing fear he felt that night.  
  
Chloe gave him a small, uncertain smile. "Marlena said that once my body and spirit were whole, then everything else would fall into place."  
  
Brady nodded in agreement. "Marlena's a very smart woman; she knows what she's talking about. Maybe that's why you're having difficulty singing. You're healing physically but emotionally; we both know that you are still hurting."  
  
Chloe's eyes flashed, briefly revealing her inner pain. It was a constant struggle for her, living with the memories of what her 'father' had done to her. She grew stronger daily; but she still had her relapses. There were days when she didn't want to get out of bed, moments when she didn't want to be touched by anyone – even Brady. Brady for his part instinctively read her moods and reacted appropriately. He hugged and kissed her when she needed comforting, and kept his distance when she needed space.  
  
Chloe inhaled deeply. "So, what are we going to do about my singing?"  
  
"We'll just concentrate on making your voice sound as good as possible and pray that it will be enough for the judges."  
  
Chloe bit her bottom lip. "And if it isn't?"  
  
Brady lightly gripped her shoulders. "Then we'll try again next year. You can spend your freshman year at Salem University."  
  
"Salem U?"  
  
"Just a thought."  
  
The mention of colleges brought back to mind a subject that Chloe had thought a great deal about lately: their future. What would she and Brady do when she went to school in New York? Would he come with her? Or would they try a long distance relationship? Could their relationship survive the distance?  
  
Chloe decided to carefully broach the subject. She needed to know what Brady's plans for the future were. "Belle told me today that she is thinking of going to Pepperdine with Shawn so they can be together." She looked at Brady to gauge his response.  
  
He frowned slightly. "I thought she had her heart set on Columbia."  
  
"She has her heart set on Shawn and wherever he's going."  
  
Brady furrowed his brow and rubbed his scraggly chin.  
  
Chloe spoke up hesitantly. "This upsets you. Why?"  
  
Brady paused momentarily. "I just don't think that Pepperdine is really where she wants to go. I just don't want her to make her college decision simply because she thinks she's in love."  
  
"She is in love. They both are."  
  
Brady snorted gently. "They are both young, naïve, and experiencing love for the first time. I'm afraid that she's going to turn her life upside down for something that may not even last."  
  
Despite her strongest efforts, Chloe felt hot tears welling in her eyes. "Why won't it last?" she asked softly.  
  
Brady shrugged. "I'm not saying that it won't. I just know them both very well. They both have a little growing up to do before they can think about spending their lives together."  
  
He looked at Chloe; she was obviously upset. Understanding dawned on him suddenly. "Hey, are we talking about Belle and Shawn, or are we talking about us?"  
  
Chloe sniffled loudly. "I just…well, how do you see your future?" She looked up in his pale blue eyes.  
  
"I can't see the future. But I can see the present. Right now, I am happy where I am. I really enjoy working at Basic Black. I didn't think I would at first, but now I'm making a difference, earning respect from my coworkers. I'm learning a great deal about the business and I can really see this as a possible career."  
  
Chloe's heart fell. Brady was staying in Salem.  
  
Brady continued as if reading her mind. "Our goal is to eventually open branch offices in other cities, like New York, but we are a few years away from that. So, for the time being, I am staying here. Dad needs me, whether or not he admits it." He chuckled.  
  
"Maybe it would be best for us if I didn't go to Julliard. I could go to Salem University like you want, and then we could be together." Chloe said hesitantly. She wondered if maybe Brady wanted her to fail her audition so she'd have to stay in Salem.  
  
Brady's jaw dropped open and he just stared at her incredulously. He hadn't missed the unspoken meaning of her statement. His face hardened just noticeably, and then softened with understanding. "I'm sorry, you must have me confused with Uncle Phil. Boy, that statement would have really hurt if I didn't know you so well. As it is, I'm a little stung." He sighed deeply and shook his head. "I know you haven't had the best examples of love in your life. Everyone in your life has used you to suit their own needs. Phillip had wanted you to plan your life around his, conveniently brushing aside your hopes and dreams. But I'm not like that."  
  
Brady grinned sexily while moving closer to her. He held her face in his hands and softly kissed her wet eyelids. "I love you for who you are. Everything you are. Even when you're stubborn, (he kissed the tip of her nose) obnoxious (he kissed her lips lightly) annoying (he nuzzled her neck)…"  
  
She closed her eyes dreamily and bent her head, arching her neck toward his dancing lips. She laughed as his feather light kisses tickled her, "I do have some good qualities, you know." She murmured, lost to the sensation of his kisses trailing her neck bone.  
  
He grinned mischievously and grabbed her waist. "I know." He then tickled her suddenly, having previously learned all her hot spots. They collapsed in a tangled mess onto his couch. Chloe squealed in breathless laughter from the onslaught of his mercilessly teasing fingers.  
  
Just when she feared she would never catch her breath, he suddenly stopped his cruel tickling and planted his lips on hers in a firm, crushing kiss. Her head reeled from the sudden change in sensations, the sudden flow of desire racking her body. She trembled at his gentle, probing touch; shaken by the raw emotion his kiss invoked in her. Chloe placed her hand on his neck and pulled him closer, letting her fingers run wild in his unruly blond locks.  
  
They spent many blissful minutes like that, lost in their kiss. It was the farthest, physically that they had gone. They hadn't talked about sex yet; it was just understood that Chloe wasn't ready for a physical relationship. {Hell,} Brady had thought, {I'm not ready, not for Chloe.}  
  
Brady had had sex before, had even thought that he was in love once. He had learned that unless a relationship had a very strong foundation based on friendship and genuine love, sex would eventually grow until it completely took over, becoming the primary focus of the relationship. Those relationships eventually burn out, because without love to fuel it, the fires of passion will quickly fade.  
  
He didn't want that for them. Chloe was just too important to risk losing because he couldn't keep his libido under control. So, after many minutes of passionate kisses and tender caresses, he gently pulled back, reigning in his desires. He gently kissed Chloe again on the lips, softly, tenderly and sat up on the couch.  
  
Chloe rearranged her hair and smoothed her wrinkled shirt. "I better get home before Nancy freaks. She's been kinda excitable lately, you know, even more smothery than usual."  
  
Brady laughed. "She just loves you, as do I. She almost lost you and she wants to make sure it doesn't happen again. C'mon, I'll drive you home."  
  
  
  
Later, in her room, Chloe again worried about their futures. They hadn't really resolved where they stood. She just knew that Brady was staying in Salem, and she would hopefully be going to New York. His words replayed in her head. "young, naïve, first love, it may not last."  
  
Fear and uncertainty stabbed her heart. She was falling deeply in love with Brady. It had happened so fast, she couldn't even pin down that magic moment when she just knew that she was in love. She had never felt this way before, so out of control, pulled by emotions she couldn't explain, much less understand.  
  
She thought about Belle. She was madly in love with Shawn, yet Brady didn't think it would last. {What if Brady and I don't last?} She absentmindedly twisted her ring around her finger. She looked down at the Celtic promise ring that Brady had given her for Christmas, and felt a little heartened by the simple ring. {He does love me; I can feel it. For now, it will have to be enough.} She resolved not to worry about their future anymore until she knew for sure whether she would be going to Julliard. {Getting better, physically and emotionally, is my focus, my priority.} She told herself firmly as she got into bed and drifted off to sleep. 


	6. Chapter Six

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Six  
  
  
  
"John, Marlena, thanks for coming by." Bo said simply as he led them into his house. The three entered the kitchen where Hope and Roman were already seated at the round oak table. Massive stacks of papers and files littered the usually neat table. Hope got up from her seat and poured coffee for her guests. The old friends sat at the table and exchanged small talk as they sipped their coffee.  
  
Bo greeted John with a smile. "So, how's that karate class of yours going?"  
  
"Good, but it's exhausting. I was so glad when Carlyn agreed to guest for me tonight." John groaned in pain and rubbed his back. "I am not as young as I used to be."  
  
Roman laughed. "And the rest of us are?"  
  
John chuckled. "The thing is I'm not that old, but I feel like I've aged 10 years in the last six months."  
  
Bo spoke up. "You know why, don't you? Your kids! Nothing ages a person faster than teenagers."  
  
Hope laughed. "Tell me about it. Everyday I wake up expecting to find a new gray hair."  
  
Marlena smiled sympathetically. "And it's even worse for you, Hope. You also have a two year old to take care of; both ends of the child rearing spectrum at the same time." Her statement was punctuated by a loud cry from above them.  
  
Hope rolled her eyes. "Speaking of which… excuse me while I check on J.T."  
  
John couldn't help the sudden twinge of bitter sadness that came over him. That was his son, his little boy crying upstairs. So many times he wanted to hold him, tell him he loved him. He could see himself raising that beautiful boy as his own. But he and Hope had both agreed that their families, especially their children, would be absolutely devastated if the truth ever came out. So John simply buried his pain deep inside of him and stood by while another man raised his son.  
  
John smiled at Marlena and squeezed her hand gently. If it hadn't been for her unwavering love and support, he might not have been able to let J.T. go. She helped him see that it was the right thing for J.T. and for Belle and Shawn. It was right for all of them.  
  
John picked up the conversation again, to change the thoughts that were running through his mind. "I will be so glad when the class is over in a few weeks. However, I think Chloe could benefit from continuing martial arts lessons from a certified instructor. She's really getting a lot out of the class, and it is obvious she enjoys it. She's easily my best student."  
  
Roman turned to Marlena. "And how is Chloe doing?" Ever since he had shot the bastard who kidnapped and nearly killed Chloe, he felt a paternal tenderness toward her. Perhaps it was a case of transference; he had been unable to save his daughter Sami from her sick boyfriend who raped her. By saving Chloe, it was like, in a small way, he was saving Sami. In any case, he genuinely cared about Chloe. She was a good kid – sweet, kind, with an amazing talent. Like his mother had said at the Brady Christmas dinner, she's family. And family is everything.  
  
Marlena smiled warmly. "You know I can't go into the specifics, but she's actually doing very well. She is healing and making great progress."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that." Hope said as she reentered the kitchen. "Shawn's been very worried about her. I think he feels somewhat protective of her. She's certainly a special young woman."  
  
Bo decided to get down to the business at hand. "As you know, we've been trying to find out who killed Barb and Glen Reiber. I just do not believe that this was a simple robbery. I believe that they were murdered. I believe that Stefano Dimera was behind their murders. John, I asked you here because of all of us, you know him best. You know how his mind works, and I'm hoping you can give us some insight." Bo thought about Stefano briefly. His sudden appearance in Salem the day after Christmas had caused his blood to freeze over. Everyone wondered anxiously why he was back in town, after being gone for so long. Whatever the reason, it wasn't good.  
  
Roman continued. "First the specifics of the case. At 12:30 pm on December 29th, their bodies were discovered in their hotel room by cleaning staff after they failed to check out. They had both been shot cleanly in the head, execution style, and all of their money and valuables were gone. They had spent a few weeks in a very expensive hotel fifteen minutes outside of town. Apparently they were very free with their money. Hotel patrons and staff report to the couple ordering the finest champagne and caviar on a daily basis. And they paid for everything in cash. So it appears at first glance, that their free spending caught someone's attention. That person tried to rob them, but something went wrong and so the person killed them."  
  
Bo interjected. "Open and shut, right? Only, there are a few things that aren't quite right. First of all, forensics reports that Barb and Glen were killed in their sleep. Why would a burglar with no motive other than robbing them kill them if they didn't pose a threat? If anything, he has just made it harder for him to escape, because surely someone would hear the gun blast. Well, further inspection reveals that the gun used was equipped with a silencer, which simply screams premeditated to me.  
  
Then there is the big question about the money. You remember Glen and Barb right? Not to be nasty, but they aren't exactly money. In fact, Glen had just lost his job a few months prior. Now suddenly they are flush with cash, staying in one of the nicest hotels around, drinking bubbly and eating fine caviar."  
  
Bo paused shortly before continuing. He drew a deep breath and fingered his beard. "Finally, they were killed mere days after Stefano makes his sudden reappearance in Salem after a long, mysterious absence. Add in the fact that Lexie is reported to be the last person that Barb talked to before leaving town, and you'll see why I've reached these conclusions."  
  
John digested Bo's remarks silently. "Okay, let's break it down. We first met the Reibers two years ago when they 'mistakenly' kidnapped J.T., believing him to be Glen's son. They finally return J.T. and leave town. We don't hear from them again until they show back up a month before Christmas. Apparently, Barb and Lexie are now close friends; people report seeing Barb visit the mansion on many occasions leading up to the party. And let's not forget the party, which was beyond bizarre."  
  
John continued, lost in memories of the party. "Here Lexie is throwing a 'Mother of the Year' party for Hope and she invites the two people who would be a mother's worst nightmare. Doesn't make sense. But of course, I was suspicious of the party from the very beginning." John murmured.  
  
He replayed the party in his head, searching for the slightest clue. He didn't even hear Marlena's beeper go off, or register when she excused herself to call the hospital. She came back in the kitchen. "That was the hospital, they need my help with a new psych patient. John, I'll see you later at home. Bye."  
  
The group waved their goodbyes, with the exception of John. There was an idea beginning to gel in his mind. "Back to the party. I had been so sure that Lexie was up to something, that I watched her like a hawk the entire evening. She and Barb were practically glued at the hip, yet to watch them, they appeared to be the most hated enemies instead of the dear friends that they claimed. Barb appeared demanding, and Lexie was definitely stalling. Hmmm. I remember Marlena telling me something that Maggie had told her. Maggie had approached Lexie and Barb at one point in the evening and Barb abruptly exclaimed that she was blackmailing Lexie. Lexie then nervously laughed and said that Barb was threatening to tell her real age, or some such nonsense."  
  
Hope frowned slightly. "Julie told me that Barb had told her that there were two million reasons why Lexie had invited her to the party and that Julie should ask Lexie what those reasons were."  
  
Bo snorted softly. "That's it. Blackmail. Barb was blackmailing Lexie for two million dollars. Somehow, Barb got hold of a secret that was so big that Lexie was willing to pay her two million dollars to keep quiet." Bo paused as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. "Stefano finds out about it, comes to Salem, and kills them to get his money back, but more importantly to ensure that the secret stays hidden. Solves the mystery of why he's back." Bo felt relieved. Certainly, he was upset that the Reibers were dead, but it was nice to know that Stefano wasn't here as part of some grand vendetta against his family.  
  
John frowned and stared intently into space. "No. That's not his style. There's more to his coming back to Salem. All indications are that he is setting up residence here again. He wouldn't come here just to kill them. That's what his men are for."  
  
John closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, despising his thoughts. "No, he's here for some other reason. My gut tells me it has to do with Lexie and that damned party of hers. She was extremely nervous all evening. She looked like she would fall to pieces at any moment. And it wasn't because of Barb's blackmail; that was like additional stress on the side. She was anxious, like she was anticipating something, waiting for something to happen. But what." He wondered silently.  
  
Hope laughed nervously. "John, you're being paranoid. You kept telling me that Lexie was planning something against me and you were wrong. Nothing happened. I went to a party, had a little cake and went home, safe and sound. Lexie is my best friend. She would never do anything to harm or hurt me."  
  
Bo interjected. "Still, remember Hope, for a few minutes you had a bad headache, a crushing migraine. You were in great pain and feeling dizzy and yet when we tried to leave, Lexie nearly forced us back into the party. I agree with John; she was acting…odd. She was very upset that we were leaving early, and made us stay until the cutting of the cake. But then I stopped paying any attention to her."  
  
"I didn't. While you were eating cake, I noticed her check her watch ten times. She actually paced nervously, and appeared to be talking angrily to herself. Something was supposed to happen that night, and for whatever reason, it didn't." John stated emphatically.  
  
"She did seem to be very depressed and almost disappointed when we left. I thought she was going to cry." Hope conceded thoughtfully. Had her friend Lexie been plotting against her? Hope remembered the many times recently that she and Lexie gotten together. They had become very close and spent a great deal of time together since their children had been born. Lexie always seemed so kind, and happy. But lately, there had been an edge to her personality, a dark undercurrent beneath her calm surface. Hope had felt uncomfortable around her. Then Hope remembered the few times that Lexie had allowed her to hold Isaac. She just melted whenever he was in her arms, like that was where he was meant to be. There was a small part of her that didn't ever want to give the sweet boy up. But then she remembered her precious John Thomas, and everything was normal again.  
  
Hope spoke up hesitantly. "Let's just say that Lexie had been plotting against me. What was she planning, and why?"  
  
John looked at her intently. "I'm going to find out." The four around the table grew silent. Lexie was planning something horrible for Hope, and now she had her father Stefano backing her up. The tension in the air was palpable as they thought of Stefano. They had each been scarred deeply by him, and knew just how evil he was. They had thought they were rid of him. They were wrong.  
  
They quietly disbanded, each lost in their own fears. John stopped on the porch and looked up into the clear night sky. He allowed the darker persona of the mercenary to surface for a moment and vowed to find out what Stefano was planning and stop him.  
  
Meanwhile, Hope was suddenly struck by an urge to hold her son. She was scared; a dark storm loomed on the horizon. She felt in her soul an impending doom. She picked up her baby boy and held him close to her bosom to ward off the approaching darkness. She cooed at him, while she shook from a nameless fear. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
  
  
"She's right this way, Dr. Evans."  
  
"Thank you." Marlena entered the pristine hospital room and shut the door behind her. She addressed the doctor who stood in front of their newest patient.  
  
"So, what do we have, Dr. Stevens?" Marlena asked as she flashed her colleague a bright smile.  
  
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Dr. Evans. The police brought her in an hour ago. They had found her wandering the streets. She has no identification and no one knows who she is. She would not speak to the policemen, and apparently, she collapsed into this trance after they picked her up. They were unsure of how to handle the situation so they brought her here." The handsome young doctor replied.  
  
Marlena closely studied the young woman. She appeared to be in her early 20's. Her most noticeable feature was her striking, dark red hair, which sharply contrasted with her milky white skin. Her large, emerald green eyes stared blankly out in front of her, her pupils wide and unfocused. She sat stiffly on the exam table, her back completely straight.  
  
Marlena slowly approached the young girl and stood in front of her. She gently took the girl's wrist and lifted her arm high above the girl's head. Marlena let go off her arm and it remained suspended high in the air. Marlena again took hold of her arm and moved it into various positions. Each time, the young woman's arm remained frozen in whatever position Marlena had put it in.  
  
"Waxy mobility, unresponsive to outside stimuli, pulse is remarkably slow for a woman her age…" Marlena murmured, making notes of the girl's symptoms.  
  
"She's catatonic." She deduced.  
  
"That was my consensus as well." Dr. Stevens remarked.  
  
"Are these the clothes she was wearing when she was brought in?" Marlena asked of the simple pale green smock and pants the patient wore. The style was similar to clothing issued by hospitals and institutions.  
  
"Um…yes." He picked up on Marlena's train of thought. "I will check with local facilities and see if anyone is missing a patient fitting her description."  
  
"Good." Marlena peered at the girl again, frowning. There was something familiar about her. She looked closely at her face but was unable to uncover what that something was. She shook her head and looked back at the doctor.  
  
"Also, run a physical examination and a CAT scan. Her condition may be caused by a chemical imbalance or physical injury." Marlena finished her notes. "In the meantime, place her in a room and monitor her. Notify me if she comes out of it."  
  
"Yes, Dr. Evans."  
  
Marlena left the room and went back to her office to file her paperwork. {She probably escaped from a nearby institution and got lost. That would certainly make my job easier.} The girl's face flashed briefly in her mind and once again she was struck by a strange sensation. There was just something about that girl. {Oh, well. I'll figure it out later.} Marlena put the mysterious young girl out of her mind and focused on going home to her husband. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Morpheus was busy that night in the town of Salem. With silken threads made of human fears and desires he wove the dreams that played in the minds of the sleeping mortals far beneath him. Morpheus grinned evilly. He was in a mood. He laughed raucously while he spun the dark dreams and nightmares that would haunt those happy little people below.  
  
Outside the wind howled and inside John moaned lowly while he rolled in his sleep. His hot blood rushed through his veins and pounded in his head.  
  
{They were in the boardroom at Titan many years ago. He and the woman he so desperately loved. It didn't matter that this was wrong. It didn't matter that she belonged to another. All that mattered was this eternal moment and the uncontrollable desire that raged through them. He looked at her, this sultry vixen, as she lay beneath him on the smooth oak conference table. She wasted no precious time as she ripped his business shirt off his chiseled chest, small white buttons flying through the air.  
  
"Marlena" he breathed huskily in between deep, passionate kisses that stole their breath. All rational thought flew from his mind when she nibbled on his ear. Her long fingernails danced across his broad back.  
  
John tried to stop his dream self. He knew how this would end. Her daughter Sami would walk in on them, would see her mother having sex with another man. The image would scar her for life. But he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. So he wasn't surprised when he heard the door creak open behind him.  
  
"Daddy?!" Belle's voice rang out in, her voice full of pained shock.  
  
John spun around, not believing his ears. Belle stood there framed in the doorway, her features frozen in shock and horror.  
  
"Daddy, how…how could you?" she cried, small tears dripping off her chin.  
  
He tried to explain. "Honey, when two people love each other like your mom and I do…" he looked down at the woman beneath him and froze.  
  
The woman he'd been making love to with such passion wasn't his beloved wife Marlena.  
  
It was Hope.}  
  
John bolted upright in his bed, waking Marlena.  
  
"What is it John? Is everything all right?" she asked groggily.  
  
He hugged her closely to him, breathing in her familiar scent. He closed his eyes to chase away the visions in his head. "Now it is." He breathed as he held her tight.  
  
He drifted back to sleep, ignoring the wind that sighed outside their penthouse. The wind was a mournful cry that sounded strangely like…singing.  
  
  
  
The ethereal song carried on the wind and floated by another house, where others slept inside.  
  
{"No" Hope cried softly, clutching her pillow to her chest. In her dream, she held on tightly to her baby boy while two dark figures tried to wrest him from her arms.  
  
"Stop it! You're dead! You and Glen have no more claim on my son. He's mine!" she cried as the shadow-cloaked figures continued to grasp and pull on her crying son. His cries ripped at her heart. As did the fear that they were going to succeed – they will take her son away from her again.  
  
"No!" she snarled with maternal rage. "He is mine!" she pulled and twisted away from them in a desperate gambit to keep her son. She looked down at her arms in horror. They were empty, still locked in a circle out from her chest. He was gone. The figures retreated into the surrounding mist and vanished, taking her baby with them. A maniacal laughter echoed through her mind and with a gasp she woke up.}  
  
She lay there tensely, fear hammering at her heart. She knew that laugh, knew it very well. {J.T!} She was struck suddenly by the need to hold her son, to make sure he was okay. She raced noiselessly to his room and peered down on her sleeping angel. She gently picked him up and cooed to him softly. He murmured in his sleep.  
  
She held him and rocked him in her arms, willing the nightmare images to fade from her mind. "Just a bad dream." She cooed as she looked at her beautiful boy. She tried to calm her racing heart, reminding herself that the Reibers were gone. That nightmare was over and she had her son, safe and sound. {It must have been our talk tonight, about the Reibers' murders and Lexie that caused this dream.}  
  
Lexie…An image from Hope's dream replayed suddenly in her head. She saw the boy that she had been holding and felt ice creep up her spine. The baby in her dream wasn't J.T. It was Isaac. She remembered it very clearly now. Holding little Isaac in her arms, the palpable fear that someone was trying to take him away from her, his heartbreaking cries for her, his mother.  
  
Hope quietly went back to bed and tossed fitfully the rest of the night while the crying wind raged through the streets of Salem.  
  
  
  
Brady grinned. Chloe smiled dreamily. They rolled over in their respective beds, in their respective rooms. They were miles apart in distance but were united emotionally in this one moment as they shared their dream.  
  
{He lifted the lacy cream-colored veil away from the face of the woman standing in front of him. It wasn't time for that yet but tradition be damned, he wanted to see his lovely bride's face. He sighed. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her red gold locks flowed freely in waves and her green eyes sparkled.  
  
His bride flushed a becoming shade of pink under his appreciative glare. She lifted her eyes and gazed shyly at the ruggedly handsome man who was to become her husband. Ice blue eyes twinkled in a tanned face that was topped with wild, curly blond hair.  
  
They heard their minister speaking to them.  
  
"Do ye, Rhianna Cassidy take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband: for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do ye part?"  
  
Rhianna swallowed her momentary uncertainty. "I, I do."  
  
"And do ye, Sheamus Brady, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife: for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do ye part?"  
  
His deep voice rang out clearly, "I do."  
  
He placed the ring on her finger. "You deserve gold and diamonds, but I can only give you this."  
  
She looked at the simple ring. It was made of three bands of silver interwoven in a never-ending circle.  
  
"The three bands represent our lives; past, present, and future. They form a circle that is unbroken, lasting for all eternity. So shall our love." Sheamus smiled down on his bride.  
  
"I now pronounce ye man and wife. Ye may now kiss the bride." The minister smiled down on the young couple.  
  
Sheamus happily claimed the lips of his young bride amidst the cheers and applause of their gathered friends and family.  
  
  
  
"UGGGH!" she groaned through clenched teeth. "Sheamus Patrick Brady, you get your coward's ass in here!" she yelled.  
  
Sheamus ran into the delivery room and tried valiantly not to be sick. He hated seeing his lovely wife in so much pain. He ran to her side and grabbed her hand, interlacing his fingers in hers.  
  
"It's okay. I'm here for ye, squeeze my hand okay?"  
  
Rhianna nodded weakly, her forehead slick with sweat. She paled even further as another contraction ripped through her.  
  
The midwife spoke up from her position at the foot of the bed. "Okay, ye're doing great now. Just one more push. Okay, I see the head, one more push, that's it!" She cleaned off the crying, red-faced babe and placed it Rhianna's arms.  
  
"Congratulations, ye have a healthy baby boy." They looked down on their beautiful baby through the tears in their eyes.  
  
"Do ye have a name?"  
  
"Yes. His name is Sean. Sean Brady."  
  
  
  
Rhianna looked down on the sleeping babe in her arms. {This child can sleep through anything.} Anything being their mad escape through the twisting stone tunnels beneath Cassidy Keep. Sheamus glanced at his wife and squeezed her hand in reassurance.  
  
"We're almost there, m'love, almost free." Her brother was behind them with his wife. They covered their backs as they escaped.  
  
Rhianna glanced at the passing walls and felt a pang of sadness and regret. This would probably be the last time she'd ever see these walls again. She was leaving her home, the place where she grew up. And she wouldn't be back.  
  
They rounded the last bend and froze in horror. He was ahead of them, standing in their path. His maniacal laughter rang out in the stone tunnels.  
  
"Did you really think you could escape me Brady?" he mocked.  
  
Sheamus drew his sword and moved in front of his wife and child, shielding them with his body.  
  
"Dimera." He spat out coldly. He advanced on the monster in front of him and prepared to attack. "You know you can't beat me with a sword, Dimera." He challenged.  
  
He laughed. "You're right, Brady. Thank goodness for modern technology." He said with a dark grin. He pulled a pistol out from his clothing and pointed at the brash young man in front of him. He took deliberate, precise aim and fired.  
  
Rhianna felt it in the core of her soul as the bullet ripped through her husband. He was dead before he even hit the ground. Her brother and sister-in-law came running up just in time to see him collapse on the stone cold ground.  
  
"Sheamus!" Rhianna's scream of sadness ripped from her throat. She was oblivious to her surroundings, didn't even notice as her brother took her son from her arms. She cradled her husband's cold, lifeless body in her arms. She could feel it in her soul. He was leaving her, his soul flying to a place where she could not follow. Her brother's voice finally pierced through the haze in her mind.  
  
"Rhianna, we have to leave now!" She looked up to see her husband's murderer standing in front of her, mocking her pain with his insolent laugh.  
  
She stood up slowly, anger coursing through her veins. "I am not going anywhere. Take Sean and go. I will follow once I have dealt with this monster." She never once took her eyes off the bastard in front of her.  
  
"Rhianna, I won't leave you here." Her brother pleaded.  
  
"GO! I need you to take care of my son, if I don't make it. I am buying you time to escape. Now Go!"  
  
He sent his sister one last longing look, and fled with his wife down the tunnels from whence they had come.  
  
Rhianna stared at the man in front of her, a strange fire burning in her eyes. " 'Til death do us part, m'love. We'll be together soon." With that final declaration, she closed her eyes and allowed the ancient power control of her body once more. She tapped into the raging fire within her, the primal forces of love and hate and released them in a piercing cry that erupted from her mouth and ripped forcefully through everything around her. As the echo of her song died down, she smiled to see her foe utterly defeated, her love avenged. As the last of her power and strength faded, she collapsed onto her husband's body and prepared to join his soul in eternity.}  
  
  
  
Brady and Chloe both jolted out of bed, shaken physically by the dream they had just lived. They sat shivering in their beds, large portions of the dream already forgotten. The visions faded quickly, leaving them wondering what had happened and why they were so upset. They soon fell back to sleep, their dreams completely forgotten by morning.  
  
All the while, the mourning wind continued to cry. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
  
  
He rudely brushed past the startled housekeeper who had opened the door.  
  
"Where is he?" he demanded coldly. "Never mind, I hear him."  
  
He walked toward the formal drawing room with the flustered servant following close behind. The occupants of the room looked up when he entered, their faces a mixture of shock and annoyance.  
  
"I, I tried to stop him sir." The poor housekeeper stammered.  
  
Stefano quickly recovered from his surprise. "It's quite all right, Lianna. I've been expecting him." The relieved housekeeper left the room, closing the French double doors behind her.  
  
Stefano sauntered over to the brandy decanter and poured himself a drink. "Aah, Mr. Black. To what do I owe this pleasure?"  
  
John calmly stared at the two people before him. They were a study in contrast. Lexie was the embodiment of barely controlled panic and anxiety, while her father exuded cool confidence, with a touch of wry amusement.  
  
John mimicked Stefano's air of feigned civility. "Well, it just occurred to me that you've been in Salem for over two months now and I have yet to pay you a visit. I'm here to rectify my little faux pas." He replied coolly, firmly keeping his immense dislike for Stefano under control.  
  
He had almost decided against confronting Dimera, but his disturbing dream last night had reminded him of what was at stake. He could still see in his mind's eye the look of absolute horror on Belle's face when she saw him having sex with Hope. He had woken up in a cold sweat, so glad that it had only been a dream. He realized then that Belle would be devastated if she ever learned that he was J.T.'s father. She would never understand the circumstances, that he and Hope had been brainwashed pawns under Stefano's control. All she would know was that her father had betrayed his love for her mother, his wife. And that he lied about it. John vowed that Belle must never learn the truth.  
  
For that reason he was willing to face the spider in his web. Stefano and Lexie both knew his secret, and he feared that their plans for Hope included revealing that secret. He needed to find out what Stefano was up to, why he was here in Salem. John fingered the small, electronic recording device that was hidden up his sleeve. It was a gift courtesy of some old friends who owed him a favor. He casually glanced around the room, wondering where to plant it.  
  
John slowly bent down and retrieved a folded up newspaper from the brass wastebasket on the floor. He read the bold-faced headline out loud. "Still no leads in Reiber murder mystery."  
  
He closely observed their reaction to his statement, while he surreptitiously ran his finger along the edge of the mahogany table beside him. He planted the bug just under the table rim.  
  
John gifted Lexie with his most genuinely concerned expression. "This must be so painful for you, Lexie. I know you and the Reibers were very close." John watched her expression with half-lidded eyes while he helped himself to a glass of water.  
  
At the mention of the Reibers, Lexie's pulse shot up and her heart thudded in her chest. His question completely unnerved her and she was unsure how to answer. She replied quickly, "What gives you that idea?" she questioned innocently.  
  
John returned her innocent expression. "Well, you did invite them to your party. Which I thought rather odd considering that the party was to honor Hope as 'Mother of the Year.' I can't imagine why you'd invite them given their 'history' with the guest of honor. I mean, they did kidnap her son." He gazed at her coolly, pleased to have caught her off guard.  
  
"We went over this at the party. Yes, they kidnapped her son mistaking him for theirs, but they also brought him back when they realized their mistake. I just felt that it was time to bury the past." Lexie defended hotly, quickly losing her composure.  
  
Stefano noticed his daughter's losing battle to control her emotions. He moved beside her to lend her support. He locked his dark, smoldering eyes onto John's. "Is there a point somewhere in all of this, Mr. Black?"  
  
John smiled sardonically. "Just that Lexie must have been friends with the Reibers. She is the last person to see them before they abruptly left town. I was just wondering if she knew where the money had come from."  
  
Lexie paled just noticeably. "What money? Glen and Barb were broke."  
  
"Oh that's right, I had forgotten. But wait, if Glen and Barb had no money, then why were they robbed?" John inquired innocently.  
  
Lexie replied coldly, trying to regain her composure. "The robber must not have known that." She suggested.  
  
John rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, I suppose that's possible. But then, that doesn't make sense either. They were the only ones in the hotel who were robbed. And then of course, there are the stories of the Reibers' indulgent spending habits."  
  
Stefano's face hardened and he clenched his glass of brandy tightly in his fist. "What exactly are you trying to insinuate, Mr. Black?"  
  
John returned his cold glare with a sardonic smile. "Cut the crap, Stefano. I know that Glen and Barb were blackmailing Lexie. For two million dollars."  
  
Stefano's face remained an impassive, unreadable mask. John smirked though to see Lexie pale even further and her hands tremble slightly. He turned to Lexie.  
  
"What was the secret, Lexie? What was so horrible that you were willing to pay two million bucks to keep them quiet?" He turned to Stefano. "And that you were willing to murder two people in their sleep to ensure that the secret never got out? What was it?"  
  
Stefano placed a calming hand on his daughter's tense shoulder. "Once again, I haven't the slightest idea of what you are talking about. And I resent the implication that we had anything to do with that most horrendous crime. Now if you will excuse us…"  
  
John's face hardened and he took a menacing step towards Stefano. "No. I'm not done with you yet. I know that you are up to something and I will find out what it is. And so help me, if you are planning anything against my friends and family, I will stop you. Using any means necessary."  
  
His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "I trust I have made my point. No need to show me out. I know the way." He flashed them a mocking smile and then left the room.  
  
John had no sooner vacated the mansion when Lexie flew out of her plush overstuffed chair and began pacing the room. "What are we going to do?" she cried nervously. "He knows…He knows what we…" she was cut off suddenly when her father firmly placed his forefinger on her lips.  
  
"Sssh…" he murmured softly. He flipped the switch on the small communications device hidden under his jacket lapel. "Rolf, meet me in the drawing room. And bring the bug spray."  
  
He hadn't seen John plant the small bug, but he couldn't afford to take any chances. Especially where John Black was concerned. Stefano turned to Lexie. "Don't you have plans with Hope shortly?"  
  
Lexie grimaced. Stefano cut off her protest. "You should keep it. You don't want her to become even more suspicious, do you?"  
  
Lexie sighed and left the room just as Rolf was entering carrying a large piece of electronic equipment. Rolf completed his thorough sweep of the room and found the device under the table where John had planted it. Stefano held the miniature bug in the palm of his large hand.  
  
"Mr. Black, I am disappointed. I trained you better than this." He crushed the silicon bug in his hand and gave it to Rolf to dispose of. Stefano steepled his fingers under his chin and furrowed his brow. "So John knows? Hmmm. Rolf, I think it is time we put our plan into action. Contact Bo Brady and have him meet me this evening in the location of his choice. There is something he needs to know about his 'son'."  
  
Rolf grinned wickedly. "Yes, Boss. Right avay." He quickly left the room to carry out his boss's order.  
  
Stefano smiled and contemplated his next move. "No one threatens Stefano Dimera. No one." 


	10. Chapter Ten

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
  
  
The metal bells chimed when he opened the door, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Caroline Brady glanced up and smiled when she saw who it was.  
  
"Colin!" she cried, throwing her arms out to envelope him in a huge hug. "Stopping in for lunch?"  
  
"Yeah. Unfortunately though, I can't stay. So if I could get one of your fabulous burger specials to go?"  
  
Caroline smiled. "I'll put the order in right now."  
  
Colin returned her warm smile. "Thanks, Aunt Caroline."  
  
"Don't mention it, sweetie. Shawn! Look who's here!"  
  
Shawn Brady came bustling out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a bar towel.  
  
"Colin!" his deep voice boomed. He wrapped his arms around the young doctor in a crushing bear hug. "C'mon, sit a spell. It's been awhile since our last talk."  
  
"I'd love to Uncle Shawn, but I can't stay."  
  
"Aaah, busy day at the hospital?"  
  
Colin chuckled, "Is there any other kind?"  
  
"Oh well, before ye rush off, tell me something. How is Chloe?" Shawn asked, his voice dropping to a low whisper.  
  
Colin smiled warmly. "She's doing very well. She has been making tremendous progress."  
  
Shawn nodded his head. "Good, good. Glad t' hear it." He moved to stand closer to Colin. "Do yer friends have any news on Dimera?"  
  
The bright smile on Colin's face quickly disappeared at the mention of that most hated name. He sighed in frustration. "No, we still don't know why he's here in Salem."  
  
"Ye don't think he's here because of Chloe, do ye?"  
  
"No, I don't think so. I don't know. He's up to something, that's for sure." His shoulders drooped slightly. "I feel so helpless. I want to protect her, take care of her. But I can't, not without revealing her and putting her into danger. To make matters worse, Nancy is being her usual stubborn, head-in-the-sand self. She thinks she can just ignore Stefano and he'll go away."  
  
Shawn placed a comforting hand on Colin's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure it'll work out – we're all here for ye, keepin' our eyes out for the both of ye. In any case, Stefano probably isn't even aware of her existence."  
  
"I just pray that's the case." The men saw Caroline coming from the kitchen with Colin's food order ready. They wiped the somber expressions off of their faces. Shawn gave Colin a hearty slap on the back. "Come back soon, okay. When ye can stay awhile."  
  
Colin grinned. "I will." He reached into his coat pocket for his wallet and promptly received a stinging slap on his arm courtesy of Caroline.  
  
"Colin Murphy, you put that wallet away right now!" she smiled at Colin's sheepish grin. "By the way, did you hear the wind last night? It chilled me right to the bone; I've never heard such a noise." She shivered despite herself as she remembered the crying wind.  
  
Colin's eyes softened and lost their focus. "I have. It reminded me of home." He said simply, overwhelmed by a sense of homesickness.  
  
Shawn nodded in agreement. "Aye, that it did." He shook himself out of his reverie. Some places were better left forgotten. "Well, take care of yeself now, and come back soon."  
  
  
  
Colin exited the Brady Pub, a thousand heavy thoughts weighing on his mind. Therefore he did not see Jennifer Horton until he had almost knocked her down. "Jennifer!" he exclaimed pleasantly. Just the sight of her was enough to lift his dark mood. He was instantly reminded of the time they had spent together in Africa, shortly before his world was flipped upside down. Their growing friendship had been on the verge of blossoming into something more. But reality had intruded, reminding him of his responsibility.  
  
He remembered that last night they were together. They sat in their usual places around the campfire, talking, laughing. He remembered how she looked by firelight; beautiful, ethereal, like an angel. The flickering fires cast a warm glow on her skin and her eyes sparkled joyfully.  
  
She had decided to read him a letter from home, a letter from her 'Gran'. He didn't mind; he wanted to know everything about Jennifer, where she was from, what her family was like, everything. He had listened dreamily while she filled him in on the details of her family's life. He heard that her cousin Hope had been found safe and sound, and that she was expecting. He was brought up to date on the events in the Brady family, having previously learned that they were his relations. He listened to the entire letter, almost envious of Jennifer's large, close-knit family.  
  
He hadn't had a family like that since that dark night, when, in one act of unbelievable cruelty, his family was slaughtered, down to his five-year old niece. He had been fifteen then, and it was simply fate that he had been away at school that night, when his family had been murdered in their own home by persons unknown. Following the advice of friends who feared for his safety, he fled to Australia and went to school there. Eighteen years passed during which he completed medical school and began his practice. One day he heard of Dr. Bill Horton's work with HIV patients in Africa. He went there to help him and that's how he had met Jennifer.  
  
Jennifer had neared the end of her letter when one little, innocuous statement grabbed his attention. "Hmmm, it looks like the young girl that the Wesleys' had adopted is in fact Nancy's biological daughter." Jennifer went on to explain that Craig Wesley had taken her brother's place as Chief of Staff at the hospital, using cruel and unethical means, mind you, and that Alice had appointed herself their watcher to ensure they stayed in line.  
  
But Colin wasn't listening to a word she had said. His mind was reeling in shock. {Nancy Wesley. She must be talking about Nancy Miller. I guess Nance married Craig after all. She has a daughter?} Colin vaguely heard himself ask, "Does she say how old her daughter is?"  
  
Jennifer glanced at the letter. "Um, she just turned fifteen. Her name is Chloe Lane and she's a good friend of my cousin Shawn Douglas Brady. Apparently, Nancy had given her up for adoption when she was born, but her adoptive parents died and now Nancy is raising her."  
  
His head continued its whirlwind spinning. {Fifteen.} He quickly did the math. {Oh my God.} His blood ran cold with the startling revelations. He knew then that she was in danger; the people who had murdered his family were still out there, looking for him, and any one connected with him. The very next day, he left for Ireland. He never expected to see Jennifer again, and the thought filled him with regret.  
  
But he was wrong. Jennifer had followed him to Ireland, hoping that there was more to their relationship than mere friendship. He was overcome with shock, happiness, and fear for her safety. The latter won out and he pushed her away from him, hoping that she would leave him and Ireland. It wasn't safe for her; hell, it wasn't safe for him.  
  
But he had no other choice. He used all of his contacts to research Chloe's history. What he found confirmed his worst fears. And now she was living in Salem. The very same town as Stefano Dimera. Not long afterwards, he moved to Salem, where he could keep a close eye on her.  
  
Colin shook himself from his memories. He smiled at Jennifer, once again amazed by her beauty. "How are you doing, today?" he asked warmly.  
  
"I'm fine, Colin. If you'll excuse me." She answered coldly and entered the Pub.  
  
Colin swore under his breath. He had deeply hurt Jennifer with his cold demeanor in Ireland, and he was still begging her forgiveness. Which was difficult, because he couldn't explain why he behaved as he did. He shook his head sadly and headed back to the hospital, hoping to bury himself in his work. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
  
  
He banged his head against the solid oak desk. He'd been working steadily all day and had gotten a great deal accomplished. Then he made the mistake of thinking about her and his concentration was shot to pieces. When he realized that it had taken him 15 minutes to read one paragraph, he gave up. Sighing in resignation, he picked up the phone receiver and dialed her number.  
  
She picked up on the third ring. "Hello?" God, he loved to hear her voice, so sweet and sexy at the same time.  
  
"Hey, Chloe."  
  
"Brady!" she smiled. Her dark mood vanished at the sound of his voice. "So, what are you doing?" She lay back on her bed and twisted the phone cord around her fingers.  
  
"Well, I was working hard, but you distracted me."  
  
She laughed. She could just see the sexy grin on his face. "I distracted you? How did I do that?" she teased.  
  
He replied, his voice a husky whisper. "You distract me just by being."  
  
"I'm sorry." She pouted playfully.  
  
"You should be. Here I am, zipping along on my marketing analysis and then you pop into my head and turn me into a brainless zombie who walks around chanting 'Chloeee…Chloeee…'"  
  
"Well, since you've joined the ranks of the walking dead, maybe you should quit for the day. We could go to your place; perhaps I can turn you back into a man?" she added suggestively.  
  
They were usually like this on the phone; shameless, teasing flirts who were only half serious. Brady chuckled. "I don't doubt that you can. But, as tempting as the offer is, I'm afraid I must finish this report before the board meeting tomorrow. So, it looks like it's gonna be a long night."  
  
"Oh." Chloe felt her dark mood return.  
  
"I know, I've been working a lot lately. But that will change after the meeting tomorrow. So I was wondering if I could make it up to you by taking you out tomorrow night."  
  
Chloe smiled. "I guess so. Where are you taking me?"  
  
"Well, I was thinking of a kind of casual, laid back evening. Dinner, movies, snuggling at my loft – that kind of thing."  
  
"Sounds great, especially the snuggling. Where are we eating?"  
  
"Hmmm, you know what? I have been craving a giant bacon cheeseburger with all the fixin's from the Brady Pub. Yeah, Brady Pub. That sounds good."  
  
"Ugh. Sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen. They do have good turkey sandwiches though."  
  
"Great, it's a date. I should probably get back to work." Brady grinned wickedly. "But before I go, what are you wearing?"  
  
"What am I wearing?"  
  
"Yes. What are you wearing?"  
  
Chloe looked down at her jeans and t-shirt and smiled. "I'm wearing a lacy negligee made of royal blue satin and strappy heels that are four inches high."  
  
Brady swallowed suddenly as he processed the visual. He quickly recovered. "Chloe, it is 5:30 in the afternoon, what are you doing wearing that now?"  
  
"Hey, if you don't want to know the answer, don't ask the question." Chloe smiled.  
  
"Alright, you shameless hussy. I've got to go. I'll talk to you later." Brady's face softened. "I love you, Chloe."  
  
Chloe smiled. "I love you too, Brady." She hung up the phone and sighed deeply, a dopey grin on her face. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve  
  
  
  
He resisted the urge to pace the sidewalk and glanced at his watch again. {The bastard's ten minutes late.} Bo sat at an old wooden table in a secluded area of Salem Park. He had chosen this spot because while it was somewhat private, it was also a public, neutral location, the only place he would consider facing his foe.  
  
Once again, he wondered why he had agreed to meet with Stefano. Every rational thought in his brain screamed at him to leave, to ignore the veiled, secretive message. Stefano was pure evil, and could not be trusted. So why was he willingly meeting with him, why would he listen to anything that man had to say? {He's trying to trick you, ensnare you.} Bo warned himself.  
  
But the lure had been too tempting to resist. With this meeting, he had a chance to find out what Stefano was planning, and maybe find a way to stop him. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game, but it was a game that had to be played. Bo remembered the look of fear on his wife's face last night. Hope had finally realized that Lexie was plotting against her, and the knowledge had chilled her to the bone. She even woke up in the night, shivering from a nightmare caused by that fear. Stefano had simply done too much to his family for Bo to ignore him. He had to face him. So when he had gotten the call early this afternoon from one of Stefano's toadies, he instantly agreed to meet him against his better judgment.  
  
Bo chuckled inwardly. {Then again, I've never been known for using my better judgment, have I?} He glanced at his gold watch again and swore softly. {Come on Dimera, let's get on with it.}  
  
"Hello, Mr. Brady."  
  
Bo grimaced inwardly to hear the hated voice behind him. He was racked with the intense desire to beat the man into a bloody pulp. Instead he stood and turned smoothly to face his enemy, his face a stoic mask.  
  
"Dimera."  
  
Stefano smiled pleasantly and sat down at the table, across from Bo. "Please, Mr. Brady, call me Stefano." He sipped carefully at the hot tea he had bought from a nearby coffee shop.  
  
Bo's face remained cold and impassive. "No. Thank you. Dimera is just fine." He warily sat back down, his eyes locked onto the repulsive man in front of him.  
  
Stefano shrugged his broad shoulders. "Suit yourself." He gazed up at the clear blue sky above him and the green trees around him. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" He smiled back at Bo.  
  
Bo sent him a withering glare. "Your man-servant said that you wanted to tell me something. Well, here I am."  
  
Stefano returned Bo's glare. "I see the art of conversation is lost on you. Very well, I shall begin." He gifted Bo with a small half smile. "First of all, how is your 'son' J.T. doing? I trust he is well?"  
  
Anger flashed through Bo and he leaned closer to Stefano, his features hardening. "Why do you care?" he grated out between clenched teeth.  
  
Stefano appeared taken aback by Bo's vehement response. "Well, I did spend a great deal of time caring for Hope when she was pregnant with him. In fact, I risked my own life to ensure that both she and the baby were healthy while we were locked up in the castle in Europe. Of course I care!" he cried emphatically.  
  
Bo rolled his eyes at Stefano's display of melodrama. He waited for him to continue. Which he did with an evil, twisted smile. His mocking eyes locked onto Bo's. "Granted, at the time I believed the child to be mine. It wasn't until much later that I learned the truth. But then, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. You know that you are not the father of that sweet little boy, don't you?"  
  
Bo's stone face hid the raging turmoil inside. It had taken him two years to accept that he wasn't J.T.'s father. He understood that Hope had been brainwashed by Stefano. She wasn't herself when J.T. was conceived; she thought that she was Princess Gina. He understood it, but it had still taken him a while to accept it. Now, J.T. was as much his son as Shawn.  
  
And now he had to stand here while his most hated enemy reopened all his old wounds. He saw the mocking sneer on Stefano's face as he insinuated that he had had sex with Hope. Bo had feared that Stefano might have been the father, but over time, he had put it out of his mind. Just making sure that J.T survived his daily battle with FAS became the most important thing in Bo's life. Now that bastard Stefano was mocking him with his insolent smile, and it took all of Bo's self control to not throttle him.  
  
Stefano continued, clearly enjoying Bo's pain. "In fact, after two years of researching, you still don't know who the father is, do you?"  
  
Again Bo was silent as he began to realize where Stefano was heading.  
  
Stefano grinned maliciously. "You don't, but I do."  
  
He took a deliberately slow sip of his tea while Bo waited with baited breath. He was afraid to hear who the father was, afraid that he already knew the answer.  
  
Stefano continued. "The thing you have to remember is that Hope thought that she was Princess Gina. She was living Gina's memories, her thoughts, and her emotions. When you remember that, you realize that there's really only one person it could be. While Gina and I certainly had our 'fun times' together, there's only one man she ever really loved. And that man is…"  
  
"John." Bo completed quietly.  
  
  
  
The drive home was a blur, a thousand separate thoughts and images flew through his mind. He kept seeing Hope and John together; talking, laughing. He saw the secret glances and heard the whispered words. He remembered that whenever anything was wrong with J.T. John was there. For goodness sake, they even named the child after him. Little John Thomas Brady.  
  
He had confronted them once before, but they denied it to his face. So he dropped it and forgot all about his suspicions that in hindsight were blindingly obvious. {Stop it!} he ordered. {Don't let Stefano do this to you!}  
  
He had stormed out of Salem Park after Stefano's shocking revelation. "I know what you're trying to do and it won't work." He had told him. "You're trying to break up my family, make me doubt my wife and my best friend so you can take advantage of the confusion. Well, it won't work!" he had cried. "And I refuse to hear another word out of your lying mouth!"  
  
Stefano had simply smirked at Bo's retreating back. The seeds of doubt had already been sown.  
  
  
  
Bo entered his house and immediately noticed how quiet it was. "Hope!" he called out into the living room. "Shawn!"  
  
"Up here, Dad." Shawn's voice floated down the stairs.  
  
Bo walked to J.T.'s room and smiled to see Shawn playing on the floor with his baby brother. Shawn held J.T. in his lap while J.T. held a big blue ball in his hands. Shawn smiled at the grin on the kid's face and looked up.  
  
"Hi, Dad. Mom's at the store getting stuff for dinner."  
  
"Really." He replied simply. He couldn't help but wonder if that's where she really was. {Stop it Bo! Hope is not cheating on you. Even if John is J.T.'s father, it doesn't mean that they are having an affair. Anyway, John is not the father. Stefano is lying to you!} Bo smiled down at Shawn, trying to force away his darker thoughts. "So, what have you been up to?"  
  
"Oh, I'm studying for a History test tomorrow."  
  
Bo saw the unopened book lying on the floor beside Shawn. He cocked an eyebrow. "You've been working hard, I see."  
  
Shawn grinned sheepishly. "Well, Mom had to leave and I just couldn't resist the chance to play with my little buddy." He directed to last of his statement toward J.T. who giggled happily at his big brother. J.T. then noticed Bo and threw his chubby arms up in the air toward his father.  
  
Bo chuckled fondly and bent to oblige his son. He groaned as he lifted his son out of Shawn's arms and straightened back up. He smiled at his little boy and addressed Shawn with a grin. "I'm here now. Why don't you take a break from your 'studying'?"  
  
Shawn stood and smiled. "If you insist. I think I'll head over to Dot.Com; they've got a new CD out that I want."  
  
"Okay, don't be out late." Bo affectionately ruffled Shawn's hair to his annoyance.  
  
"Bye." Shawn called as he went out the back door.  
  
Bo continued to hold J.T. while he fought a war with himself. He couldn't believe the things that he was thinking, yet he couldn't stop thinking them. {John's his father. He can't be the father, because that would mean that both he and my wife have been lying to me for years. And if they've been lying about this, what else have they been lying about?} {I can't believe I'm putting stock in anything that Stefano says. He only wants to destroy me, and my family.}  
  
Bo looked at his son again and frowned. Did he always resemble John? Or was his mind playing tricks with him? Bo set J.T. down in his crib and left the room, trying to escape his thoughts. He knew Stefano was lying to him. But what if he wasn't?  
  
{There is a way to find out for sure.}  
  
No. He resisted that idea. He was not going to put any credence in Stefano's words. {You would be able to prove once and for all that he's lying. And then you would be able to stop wondering if your wife is lying to you.} The temptation to find out the truth was too strong to fight. He headed into the kitchen and smiled to find the object he was looking for. {Perfect. It hasn't been washed yet.} He placed the coffee mug into a plastic bag and went back to J.T.'s room. He gently swabbed the inside of the little boy's mouth and placed the cotton swab into another plastic bag.  
  
Minutes later, he entered the hospital with J.T. in one arm. He walked over to the lab and handed the bags to the nurse stationed there.  
  
"I need a paternity test done using these two samples." 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
  
  
They had just sat down to an elegant dinner when the dining room door flew open. Bart rushed in breathlessly and stopped in front of Stefano. Rolf rolled his eyes at the young man's lack of decorum. Stefano delicately wiped his mouth and placed the fine linen napkin in his lap. He calmly looked up at Bart. "Yes?"  
  
Bart was immediately flustered; he had been working for Lexie for so many months that he had forgotten what dealing with Stefano was like. He swallowed nervously. "Sorry to interrupt, boss, but we got a situation down at the hospital. Bo Brady has ordered a paternity test on J.T." Bart tensed, waiting for the inevitable explosion.  
  
But Stefano simply smiled that Cheshire Cat grin of his and said nothing. Lexie, however, lost all composure. "What?!" she screamed as she leapt out of her chair. "No, this is horrible! That test will prove that John isn't J.T.'s father, which will make Bo suspicious all over again and it's only a matter of time before they realize the switch. What are we going to do?"  
  
Stefano stared incredulously at Lexie. Sometimes he couldn't believe that she was his daughter. "Lexie, calm down. I was hoping that he would take the bait."  
  
She sat back down in an effort to compose herself. "What do you mean? You want him to test J.T.? That test will prove that you lied!"  
  
Stefano swallowed his anger and tried to exercise patience. "No. It will not. The test will only confirm what I told Bo. Because you are going to change the results."  
  
Lexie's eyes grew wide. "You want me to do what? I can't do that! What if I get caught?"  
  
"Little Sami Brady has done this twice. Surely, you can manage it. I'm positive that given your contacts at the hospital, it won't be any problem for you to 'borrow' a computer and change the results. Tomorrow morning, around ten o'clock, you go to the hospital under the pretense of showing Isaac off to your friends in the lab area. While they are oohing and aahing over the boy, you ask to use a computer to check on an old patient of yours. Then simply go into J.T.'s test file and change the results. Simple. Even Bart could do it."  
  
Lexie nervously chewed her bottom lip. She didn't want to do it, but she had already done so many things to keep her son; this was just one more. "Okay. Tomorrow morning."  
  
Stefano smiled. "Good. You will see that this is all part of the plan. When Bo finds out that his wife and best friend have been lying to him for years, there will be Hell to pay. And all three of them will forget about us entirely."  
  
Lexie's heartbeat returned to normal. As usual, her father was right. John certainly won't be coming around the mansion for a while, when everyone finds out that he fathered a child with Hope Brady. She hid a small smile at the thought of that self righteous, arrogant man finally getting what he deserves. All of them would get what they deserve. Lexie went back to her dinner, enjoying her dark thoughts.  
  
Stefano slipped out of the room briefly to consult with Rolf. "And how goes our other plan?"  
  
Rolf smiled wickedly. He loved to give his boss good news. "I just spoke with our 'friend' at Julliard. He confirms that a certified letter was delivered to Chloe Lane this afternoon. The letter states as per your wishes, that due to a scheduling conflict her audition was moved up to March 17th, and will be held in Andrews Hall."  
  
"Excellent. March 17th, a mere three days before the vernal equinox. By the time anyone learns of our plan, it will be too late. And you confirmed that Andrews Hall is currently under construction?"  
  
"Yes, boss. There will be no one there when she shows up for her 'audition'. Except, of course, for us."  
  
Stefano chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his throat. "Excellent. Tell our friend to expect a large donation from me for the school."  
  
"Certainly, boss."  
  
Stefano reentered the dining room and sat down to enjoy the rest of his meal.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile,  
  
  
  
Chloe sighed and reread the letter. She had been upset ever since she had gotten it this afternoon. Even her phone conversation with Brady did little to dispel her worries. March 17th. Just under ten days away. How in the world would she be ready in time? Especially with Brady working round the clock. {C'mon, be charitable, Chloe. He has to work, just like you have to go to school. You know he'd be there for you if he could.}  
  
She sipped at her iced latte. She was so engrossed in her pitiful depression that she didn't even notice when someone joined her at her booth at Dot.Com.  
  
"Chloe. Chloe!"  
  
She looked up from her letter and smiled. "Shawn! What are you doing here?"  
  
He sipped from his coke and grinned. "I'm studying for the history test tomorrow."  
  
Chloe smiled at her friend's study habits. She was amazed that he even managed to pass his classes, let alone make the high grades that he always got. "I'm surprised you aren't 'studying' with Belle."  
  
"Can you believe that she says that I'm a bad study partner? She even blames her last couple of test scores on me. Says I'm a bad influence on her. So here I am, going solo."  
  
"I'm sure you'll do just fine." Chloe quipped dryly.  
  
Shawn noticed the letter she held in her hands. "What's that? Is that from Julliard?"  
  
The smile on her face faded, to be replaced by a worried frown. "Yes. They rescheduled my audition to the 17th, which is the following Sunday, not nearly enough time to get ready."  
  
"What's to get ready? You show up, sing, and knock their socks off. You get accepted and in five years I'm telling everyone about my famous friend Chloe Lane. Except no one will believe that I know the great opera star Chloe Lane, and I have to show them old pictures of us together only to realize that I don't have any pictures of us so then I show them your yearbook picture and then they finally believe me." Shawn finished, his face completely serious.  
  
Chloe laughed out loud, glad to feel her spirits lifting. "Thanks for your vote of confidence."  
  
"Just telling the truth." He frowned slightly. "Why don't we have any pictures together, anyway?"  
  
Chloe shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't exactly spent a lot of time together, well, up until these last few months." She smiled. She had seen a lot of Shawn since her ordeal. The four of them, Belle, Shawn, Brady and Chloe hung out a lot and often doubled on dates. It had felt good to rebuild her old friendship with Shawn.  
  
"I wonder why. We used to hang out a lot when you first came to Salem."  
  
Chloe smiled wistfully. "I remember. What happened?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know. That's sad. We just kind of drifted apart. Okay, new rule. No more drifting. When I brag about the famous Chloe Lane, I want to be able to say that she is my friend, not that we used to be friends."  
  
Chloe laughed again at Shawn's vivid portrait of the future. "Okay, deal. No more drifting. Which means we have a lot to catch up on. So spill. How's J.T.?"  
  
Chloe laughed to see the silly grin come over his face at the mention of his brother. "What can I say, he's great. You know, I was really upset when I first found out Mom was pregnant. I had just found her after believing her to be dead and now I have a new baby brother or sister to deal with too? It was just too much. But my feelings changed, not when I first saw him, or held him. They changed the first time he recognized me and reached out for me. That's when he stopped being the annoying, crying baby and became my little brother, the most important thing in my life."  
  
Shawn took another sip of his drink. "Belle and I have been talking about our future together, and I've been really considering Pepperdine. But I don't know that I can leave J.T. behind. He's such a big part of my life, I just don't know what I'll do without him."  
  
Chloe listened sympathetically. "I'm sure his illness probably makes him all the more important to you."  
  
"Yeah. I mean, we've had so many scares with that kid. Times when he would just stop breathing, and I won't ever forget the time in the hospital that his heart stopped beating and the doctors declared him dead. But he fought back, like he fights everyday." Shawn smiled proudly. "He's a tough kid. He's a Brady."  
  
"You know what? I'm gonna have like ten kids." Shawn declared seriously.  
  
"You are? And how will your wife feel about this?" Chloe asked laughing.  
  
"I don't know. Belle and I haven't really talked about it."  
  
"You see yourself married to Belle?"  
  
"Well, yeah." Shawn grinned sheepishly, a hint of pink on his tanned cheeks. "I never imagined that I would feel this way about someone. I can't explain it. I just can't imagine my life without her. But you know how that is, right?"  
  
Chloe sighed, a sheepish grin reflected on her face as well. "Yeah. I just wish, no never mind."  
  
"Wish what?"  
  
"I wish that my future with Brady was as certain as yours. I don't know what's going to happen when I move to New York and he stays here. He seems to be so unconcerned, I wonder if maybe I love him more than he loves me."  
  
"Are you insane?! No, are you blind?! Can you not see how much Brady loves you? Maybe you are blind, since it took you forever to see what I've known all along. He loves you more than he loves himself, and we both know that's quite a bit. Just because he's not controlling like Phillip, and he wants to give you space to grow and become your own woman does not mean that he doesn't love you. It's just the opposite. You do not have to worry about your future with Brady. It's going to happen. You will be together. You couldn't stop it if you tried. It's fate. Meant to be."  
  
Chloe smiled, again feeling her worries dissipate. It felt nice to have someone else confirm what she knew in her heart.  
  
Shawn reached out and took her hand in his. "So stop worrying, okay? I don't like seeing this anxious look on your face."  
  
Chloe smiled again. "Okay. I've got to go, but we should talk like this more often."  
  
He looked at her seriously. "Hey, I'm here for you whenever you need me. 24-7."  
  
Chloe suddenly felt strong gratitude in her heart. She got up to leave. "Thanks. That means a lot."  
  
"I mean it. Anytime." He called after her.  
  
Chloe exited Dot.Com. and stopped just outside the store. She had left to escape that strong, overwhelming feeling of familiarity that she had had just then. It was like déjà vu. Like she had had a similar conversation with someone else, once upon a time. She shrugged simply and walked home.  
  
Unaware that Shawn had felt the same thing. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
1 Chapter Fourteen  
  
Legend has it that deep in the lush forests of Ireland, there once dwelt banshees. Some say they still exist; that you can hear their wailing cries in the night. No one really knows what they are. Some say they are fallen angels seeking revenge with the power of their once heavenly voices. Others say that they are the spirits of Irish men and women who have died violent deaths and seek to protect their beloved land. And then there are those who will tell you that it is nothing more than the wind sighing in the trees. Those people have never heard the song of the banshee.  
  
Few have heard their song and not been forever changed. Fortunately for man, their song cannot usually be heard by mortal ears. Rather, it is as a crying, moaning wind to their ears. Yet though the song is not heard, it is felt, in the deepest, most secret part of the soul. Imagine the saddest song you have ever heard, the one you play endlessly even though it makes you cry. Take the emotive power of all the sad songs you have ever heard and multiply by a thousand and then you might understand how it would feel to be on the receiving end of a banshee song.  
  
The banshee song is the power of emotion. It is the distilled essence of every tear, every laugh, every cry of rage ever uttered since the beginning of time. It is the power of music in its purest, most potent form. The power to uplift the soul, the power to bring it crashing down.  
  
There are a few people though, who can hear the song of the banshee. These are the innocent, the pure of heart. Children, the very sick and those who are at death's door have been known to hear their song. As well as the mentally unstable. And a few other people.  
  
  
  
It was after two in the morning and Nurse Joyce Peters was nearing the end of a long shift. As she was finishing her paperwork, she heard a loud commotion coming from the nearby psych ward. She followed the noise to a patient's room and sought to assist the nurse on hand.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't know." said the nervous intern. "It started a little while ago. I think he's frightened by the noise of the wind outside. He did this last night too."  
  
Nurse Peters went over to the distraught patient and tried to understand his frantic words.  
  
"What's wrong, George?" she asked in a cheery voice.  
  
He stared at her, eyes wide with fear. "Don't you hear it? The singing! Death is singing!" George rocked himself and bucked in his bed with his hands covering his ears. "Don't listen to it! Song of sorrow, song of despair. Song of death!" his ramblings soon became incoherent and the nurses stared blankly at each other.  
  
"George honey, it's just the wind. It can't hurt you." She motioned to the intern to give him a sedative. He soon fell asleep and Nurse Peters turned to the intern.  
  
"So, what's his story?"  
  
"Schizophrenic with delusions of persecution. Believes everyone's out to get him."  
  
"Even the wind, huh? I'm gonna go home and crash. These 24 hour shifts are going to be the death of me."  
  
The petite intern laughed. "Ok, see you later."  
  
Joyce was putting on her coat when she heard it. She stood motionless listening to the wind outside. It did sound a little like singing. She listened to the ghostly, half-understood notes and felt an overwhelming sadness pulling on her heart. {Song of sorrow, song of despair.} She heard the unstable patient's words in her head. {Song of death.}  
  
The nurse shook her head and laughed. {I really need to get some sleep.} She pushed the singing out of her mind and headed home.  
  
  
  
Elsewhere, as the faint song was borne on the wind, it traveled by a house and seeped into the mind of the sleeping man inside.  
  
Shawn Brady rolled away from his wife and whimpered softly lost in a dream of long ago.  
  
{They were singing again. It was as a requiem for the dead, as if they too were mourning his loss. He stared with red-rimmed eyes at the two fresh graves before him.  
  
1.1 Lord Sean Devlin Cassidy  
  
1911-1948  
  
Devoted husband, father, and brother  
  
Dear to us all  
  
Lady Elizabeth Morgan Cassidy  
  
1912-1948  
  
In death as in life  
  
She never leaves her husband's side  
  
Sean Brady stared silently at the graves of his parents while the sheeting rain ran off of him in rivers. They weren't actually his parents, but his aunt and uncle. His real parents were killed when he was just a wee baby. He had heard the story many times. Dimera had killed them deep in the tunnels beneath Cassidy castle. He knew how they died, but he didn't know why. He had asked his aunt and uncle many times why Dimera had killed his parents but they never told him. They always changed the subject and avoided all mention of Dimera's name.  
  
And now they were dead. They would never be able to tell him what happened the night his parents were coldly murdered. Nightmare images assailed his mind, reminding him of the night he found their bodies, a mere three days ago.  
  
He was late coming home from work at the factory. His cousins the twins Shane and Brian were following behind him. They were 16 and he was just 18, already working hard to earn a living. WWII had just ended and there were many jobs for strong, hard-working men in factories building machinery.  
  
As he entered the Cassidy grounds, he suddenly had a sharp feeling of dread. A mournful wind howled through the trees and his strawberry-blond hair stood up on his tanned arms. Despair hung in the air and Sean nearly choked, gasping for breath against the onslaught of felt terror.  
  
He broke into a run toward the old castle and noticed immediately that there were no lamps or fires burning. Everything was completely dark, and deadly quiet. He ran into the living quarters of the castle and stopped cold in the foyer. There, his aunt and uncle lay in pools of blood that shone blackly on the stone floors. He heard the running footfalls of his cousins coming up behind them. He tried to shield them from the horrific sight but he was too late. The twins fell to the ground weeping beside their parents while Sean checked for signs of life.  
  
His uncle Sean was cold, dead from a bullet that had pierced his heart. His wife Elizabeth had fallen on top of him likewise wounded. Joy rushed through Sean's heart to find that his beloved aunt was not dead; but it was squashed quickly by the realization that she soon would be. She reached for her nephew and tried to speak. Blood flowed from her cold lips.  
  
"Dimera.." she rasped, her strength waning. "Dimera…took Morgan. You must find her before he… ritual sacrifice…. steals her power…. banshee child…find my daughter…. vernal equinox, power of sun, power of earth…he will be immortal…." She trailed off as her head rolled limply to the side. She breathed one last, grasping breath, and was still.  
  
Sean listened in utter shock and amazement. Dimera had killed his aunt and uncle, and stolen his young cousin. Sacrifice? Banshee child? None of it made any sense. And three days later he was still wondering at its meaning.  
  
That night he gathered with close friends and family. The family members were distant relations; there were now very few Cassidys left. An old, wise friend of the family stood to speak, the firelight glinting off of his white hair. His voice was weak and gravelly, but his spirit was strong.  
  
"I do not understand the reference to the banshees, nor do I know why Dimera chose to kidnap Morgan. It is clear that he intends to sacrifice her as part of some druid ritual. I know that the vernal equinox was the most important day of the year to the Celtic druids. It is said that on that day, when both the day and night are equal, there is great power in the earth and sun. That power can be harnessed, with the proper ritual and a very specific location. Buried beneath the ruins of the old factory, there lies an ancient druid temple complete with a circle of standing stones. The stones have long since broken or fallen. Dimera will have to repair them or raise new stones before the equinox for the ritual to work."  
  
Another voice spoke up. "I've seen men working at the site of the burned factory. They were digging, and I saw a large group of workers struggle to lift a heavy stone. I just thought maybe someone was building there."  
  
The old man nodded his head in thought. "Then we don't have much time. Tomorrow morning begins the equinox, and the ritual will take place at noon when the sun is directly overhead. Dimera is certain to have hired a small army to keep anyone away who may come after Morgan. So we will need an army ourselves. He must not succeed, no matter the cost. This is about more than that precious little girl. If he succeeds, he will become immortal and very powerful. And we all know first hand how evil Dimera can be. Go out, gather anyone ye can find, and all the weapons ye can get yer hands on. We start tonight."  
  
When all was said and done, they had a well-armed crowd of about thirty men. The old man had told them that there were actually two ways to reach the ruins. One was through the factory where Dimera's army would be. The other way was through a secret series of tunnels hidden far beneath Cassidy castle. The bulk of the men were to fight against Dimera's defenses, while Sean and a handful of others, including his cousins, searched for Morgan through the old tunnels.  
  
As Sean and his cousins stealthily made their way through the tunnels, he remembered the story he had heard of his own parents' desperate flight through these same paths. Hatred like he had never known before coursed through his veins. Twice now, he had been orphaned because of Dimera. He thought briefly of little Morgan, what she must be going through. He pictured her black glossy curls and her wide blue eyes. He prayed to God that they would be able to save her.  
  
Many times in the night, they came across blocks caused by collapses in the tunnels. It took hours for the men to move the large heavy stones that barred their path. But they made it through into a large open clearing under the late morning sky. Tall stones stood around them in a circle and in the center there was an altar on which lay a little girl. They had arrived just as Dimera was beginning the ritual. Sean shook in horror and rage to see that Morgan was covered in small cuts on her arms and legs. The blood ran from her body in rivers and collected in a pool on the ground in the very center of the circle. The sun appeared high overhead and Dimera was chanting in the Celtic tongue. He shook as power flowed through his veins. Morgan screamed in pain, feeling her life's energy being ripped from her small body. Had she been older, she might have known how to use the power of her scream, the power that Dimera so desperately craved.  
  
Sean knew he didn't have much time. He raced into the circle and snatched the little girl from the altar while the other men dealt with Dimera's men. Dimera screamed in rage as the stolen power fled his body, the ritual interrupted. He stared in fury at the brash young man who dared to keep him from his prize.  
  
Sean returned his gaze with a fury of his own. He was racked by a desire for revenge, but the bleeding, shaking little girl in his arms took precedence over everything else. He didn't say one word to the bastard who had taken his family from him, but turned and walked away. Dimera could be heard screaming impotently behind him, the failed ritual having temporarily stripped him of his usual strength. His men likewise had been utterly defeated.  
  
"I will destroy you for this! Sean Brady! A pox on all Bradys! I will devote the rest of my life to making sure that you pay. You and all your family!"  
  
  
  
Three days later, in a small hospital in Dublin, he sat beside her bedside. He knew it was simply a matter of time. The doctors had done all they could, but her wounds were too severe. The bastard had stolen her spirit. Sean had known that when he first picked up her body. It was an empty shell, devoid of life. Sean listened to the priest as he performed the last rites. He kissed her forehead softly and sat by while she slowly stopped breathing. Tears fell from his eyes as he kissed her hands.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Morgan. We stopped him. But we didn't save you. We didn't save you." He looked down at the young woman again. He saw her long brown hair, her large blue eyes hidden by her closed lids. "I'm so sorry, Chloe."  
  
  
  
Shawn jerked out of his sleep, his breathing ragged and gasping. Chloe. Was history about to repeat itself? Would he lose Chloe like he had lost Morgan? No. Shawn vowed to himself. {By all I hold holy, Dimera will not succeed. He will not hurt her.} Shawn was up the rest of the night.  
  
  
  
A\N: Small note on names. You may have noticed that I switch back and forth between Sean and Shawn. In my story, Sean is the Irish version and Shawn the Americanized version. I use the two spellings to denote where the action is taking place. Sean = Ireland and the past. Shawn= America and the present. It will be easier to understand later in the story. Sorry for the confusion. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
The following afternoon…  
  
"How is our patient today?" Marlena asked as she entered the hospital room.  
  
"No change, Dr. Evans." Dr. Stevens replied, referring to the red haired girl who was their newest patient. Marlena briefly examined the young woman. She was still frozen in a catatonic state, her green eyes unfocused.  
  
"I understand there was some kind of commotion here last night?" Marlena asked while taking the girl's pulse.  
  
"Oh, it was just George. He was afraid of the wind again."  
  
"Hmmm. I know that it is just the March wind and everything, but it did seem especially strong the past two nights. And I've never heard such a noise. Such a sad, mournful wail; I even heard it in my dreams last night."  
  
"Let me guess, you had a bad dream, too. Ten people have told me they had a nightmare last night. I had one too. I can't remember what it was about, though."  
  
Marlena tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, dreams are often influenced by the senses. I can't tell you how many times my alarm has gone off while I've been dreaming and the music winds up becoming part of my dream. That's really all it is; we're just reacting to the noise of the wind outside." Marlena looked down at their patient. "No, the real mystery is our friend here."  
  
"We've started calling her Ariel. I was tired of referring to her as Jane Doe and my kids had made me watch The Little Mermaid like ten times this week. I saw her long, bright red hair and thought 'Ariel'."  
  
Marlena smiled. "Okay, Ariel. It suits her. So, what have we learned?" she asked her colleague.  
  
"Not a whole lot. I have checked with every mental facility in the state. No one's missing a patient. The police have exhausted their information sources. We don't have a single clue who she is or where she came from. Also, we ran several exams. There is nothing physically wrong with her, although we did find this." Dr. Stevens rolled up the sleeves on Ariel's arms and held them up to the light. Faintly visible on her pale skin were tiny scars running up her arms and wrists.  
  
Marlena frowned slightly and studied the scars closely. "The lines are so fine and clean; they must have been made with a razor blade."  
  
"Suicide attempt? Or self-mutilation?"  
  
Marlena sighed. "Well, I suppose either is possible. But these scars are so faint; they have to be very old. She would have been a child when these wounds occurred. Hmmm." She took a close look at the girl's wrists. "See these lines; they're shorter than the others and crisscross over each other like a pattern or…a symbol. Yes, these are symbols. But of what – what does it mean?" she wondered aloud. She grabbed a notepad and quickly sketched the symbols. "I'm going to find out what these symbols mean, if anything at all."  
  
Marlena looked back at Ariel's face and was again struck by a sense of familiarity. In a sudden flash of blinding clarity, she realized that Ariel reminded her of someone she knew. She was still trying to figure out the resemblance when Ariel's bright green eyes suddenly focused. Her breathing quickened and she stared at the door.  
  
"She's coming out of it!" Marlena tried to grab the girl's attention, but she remained fixed on the door. Marlena followed the girl's gaze and saw Colin through the thick glass talking with an intern. Ariel's eyes grew wide and her hands shook. She mouthed words but her voice was silent. Her hands flew in rapid, stuttered movements.  
  
"Sign language." Marlena exclaimed softly. "Is she deaf?"  
  
"The police didn't seem to think so. She had behaved fairly normally before she collapsed. But they did say that she wouldn't speak to them." Dr. Stevens answered.  
  
"Wouldn't? Or couldn't." Marlena knelt in front of Ariel, who was becoming increasingly distressed. Tears fell from her eyes and her body rocked. All the while her hands continued their dance through the air. Her eyes remained locked on the window. On Colin.  
  
Marlena watched as Colin ended his conversation and continued down the hall, out of sight. Ariel flew to the door, her hand turning the knob. She pounded the door in frustration when she found that it was locked. She beat her fists on the door, on the glass, and motioned to the stunned doctors inside to let her out.  
  
Marlena shook off her stupor and rushed to the girl. She grabbed hold of Ariel's arms, attempting to calm her down. Ariel struggled even harder to find herself in a strange place with people she didn't know. Her memories were so jumbled; she didn't know where she was or who she was. But she had known that man, once upon a time. When life was simpler and happier. Before the bad man came.  
  
The bad man killed her family, and took her away. She lay on cold stone and he cut her. Blood ran all over her, and she heard his evil voice, saying evil things. She forgot that she had no voice, and opened her mouth to scream.  
  
That is her last clear memory before this moment. Images rushed together in her mind in a dizzying swirl. She fought the women who sought to restrain her. She only knew she had to get out, to get to that man. She threw her head back and opened her mouth to scream. But there is only silence. And then a needle prick sent her falling into oblivion.  
  
Marlena threw away the used syringe and looked at the unconscious girl. {What was that about?} She helped Dr. Stevens put Ariel to bed. They loosely strapped her in the bed, mainly to ensure that she doesn't injure herself.  
  
Marlena tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Examine her again, Dr. Stevens. Find out if she is deaf, or simply mute. I'm going to research these markings on her arms."  
  
She exited the room and headed toward her office all the while thinking of the mysterious girl and her strange reaction to Colin. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Sixteen  
  
A little later that evening…  
  
  
  
"Here you go, Mr. Brady."  
  
"Thanks." Bo ripped open the sealed envelope and shuffled through the papers, until he found what he was looking for. The results of J.T's paternity test.  
  
His heart stopped. Probability of match 99%  
  
"There must be some mistake." He breathed in denial. The lab technician looked on him with pity. She'd seen this reaction many times.  
  
"I'm afraid it is not. We always run the tests twice just to make sure. The test is highly accurate."  
  
Bo stumbled away from the lab, reeling in shock. {John is J.T's father. JOHN IS J.T.'S FATHER! John made love to my wife .} He collapsed in a waiting room chair. In just one day he had lost his son.  
  
It was one thing when the father was someone Bo didn't know. He could simply pretend that the other guy didn't exist, that he was J.T.'s father. But now, the father was someone he did know – his best friend, for Pete's sake! He can't undo this knowledge; pretend that J.T. isn't John's.  
  
Images whirled in Bo's mind. He saw John kissing Hope, saw his lips trailing her naked body. He could see them make passionate love.  
  
{That wasn't your wife. It was Gina. And her mercenary.} Bo reminded himself. Stefano's taunting words echoed in his head. "Gina has only really loved one man." Bo found himself wondering how much of Gina was inside of Hope. He was fooled once before. He married the real Princess Gina believing her to be his beloved Hope. What if, there is a part of Hope that's in love with John? G*d! They created a child together! Those kinds of feelings just don't go away.  
  
A thousand moments replayed in his mind as everything became clear. The clandestine meetings at night. "I'm going out for ice cream" Hope says, even though it's midnight in the dead of winter. He recalled the secretive glances. John's protectiveness of Hope both at Lexie's party, and more recently, two nights ago.  
  
{No. Hope is faithful to me. She's only guilty of lying to me. She isn't in love with John. I'd know if she were Gina, if even a tiny part of Gina lived in her. But John is another story. Hope still doesn't remember her life as Gina. But he remembers his time as the mercenary; in fact, the mercenary persona has been known to take over John's personality in times of crisis.}  
  
{So the real question is: when John looks at my wife, does he see Hope? Or Gina?}  
  
Bo sighed heavily. He jumped to feel a firm touch on his shoulder. He looked up to see…  
  
"John." Bo said softly.  
  
John took in Bo's disheveled appearance with worry. He saw the anguish on the other man's face. "God, Bo. What's wrong? Is it Hope? Or Lord no. J.T.? Please tell me it's not J.T." John said quickly, as his heart began to pound. {Please, Lord, let the boy be okay.}  
  
A sudden fear gripped Bo's heart. John had a claim on his son. John could take J.T. away from him. The fear combined with the already present anger to create a powerful rage that surged through Bo. Bo looked at the worried man in front of him and saw the man who had made love to his wife, created a child with her, and lied to him for the past two years. Lies. Betrayal.  
  
Bo's fist connected with John's face, knocking the stunned man's head sideways. John had yet to process the attack when Bo struck again, this time in the stomach.  
  
"MY son is fine!" Bo yelled as he launched himself at John.  
  
John threw his hands up to block, bewildered by Bo's attack. He successfully dodged the jab. "Bo, what's wrong?"  
  
"What's wrong?!" Bo screamed, throwing blow after blow at John. "My wife and my best friend have been lying to me for two years!"  
  
Ice began to settle in John's stomach. "What are you talking about?"  
  
  
  
Marlena had heard their noise from her office down the hall. She ran into the waiting room to see Bo trying to pound on John. From the look of John's face, he had already suffered a few blows. She ran up to the two men and was able to separate them.  
  
"Bo, John. What is the meaning of this? Bo, what's wrong?"  
  
Bo seethed in rage as he sought to control himself. He looked at John coldly. "How many times did I ask you? How many times did I tell you that I was looking for J.T.'s father? And you knew who it was all along."  
  
Blood drained from Marlena's face, and John's features settled into a cold mask.  
  
Bo picked up the test papers. "You know what this is? It's a paternity test. I took samples from J.T. and from the coffee mug that YOU drank out of the other night. Wanna know what the test says? 99% match. You are J.T.'s father. But then, you already knew that, didn't you?"  
  
John closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The moment that he had dreaded for two years had finally come. The truth was out. How would this affect his family?  
  
Bo just continued to stare at John. "I asked you, man. I asked you if there was even a chance that you were the father. I understood the circumstances, that Hope had been brainwashed into believing that she was Gina. I knew that at times you thought you were the mercenary. Did you think I wouldn't understand that Stefano was to blame for all of this? Who do you think told me? I know that the bastard's playing a game with all of us.  
  
But it doesn't change the fact that you lied to me. You fathered a child with my wife and you lied to me." Bo briefly glanced at Marlena. "You don't seem too surprised by this. Let me guess. You knew too. I see. The three of you teamed up to keep me in the dark."  
  
Marlena spoke up. "We sought only to protect Shawn and Belle from this horrible situation."  
  
Bo whirled on her. "But you still should have told me. Shawn's my son. Do you think I would have done anything to hurt him? Dammit! I had a right to know the truth about J.T. You didn't have the right to keep it from me."  
  
John spoke gently. "Hope and I, we didn't want to hurt you with the knowledge of something that happened once, and we couldn't even control."  
  
Bo looked at John and replied quietly. "If you had told me that when you first found out, I would have believed you. But now that you have been lying to me for two years, working together with my wife to keep the truth from me – I can't believe a word you say. I look at you and see the man who had sex with my wife, and I can't help but wonder, 'how many times have they made love?'"  
  
He turned to Marlena, his sadness audible in his voice. "Do you know what I'm talking about? Do you wonder? When John's working late at night, do you wonder if that's where he really is? When he goes out to run errands, do you wonder if he's stopping by my place for a quickie with my wife? God help me, that's what I'm wondering."  
  
Bo took one last look at the two co-conspirators, and turned and left for home.  
  
The windows of Shawn's pickup truck were completely fogged over. Which was a pretty neat trick given the fact that it wasn't that cold outside. The two teenagers inside reluctantly pulled away from each other.  
  
Belle smiled shyly. "We should probably get inside before your parents start to wonder what we're doing out here."  
  
Shawn lightly nuzzled her neck. "Nothing they haven't done many times before." He murmured.  
  
"Talk about a mood killer. Future reference, when we're making out, can we NOT talk about your parents' sex life?"  
  
Shawn grinned sheepishly. "Sorry." He looked deeply into Belle's eyes. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"  
  
"Not within the last two minutes, no."  
  
"Oh, sorry. I was…distracted."  
  
"I'll say. C'mon, let's get inside. Oh, and I love you too." Belle grazed Shawn's lips lightly with hers.  
  
They entered the kitchen and immediately noticed the raised voices from the living room. They weren't shouting, but it was obvious they were upset about something. Shawn looked at Belle questioningly. Belle shrugged her shoulders.  
  
The two silently entered the living room. The occupants of the room were facing away from the teens, and their heated conversation prevented them from noticing their arrival.  
  
Shawn was about to ask what was wrong when he and Belle got the shock of their young lives.  
  
Bo stared at Hope, feeling pain in his heart and tears in his eyes. "How long have known? How long have you known that John was J.T.'s father?"  
  
"What?!" came the shocked voices from behind. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Seventeen  
  
Bo and Hope slowly turned to see Shawn and Belle behind them, shock reflected on their young faces.  
  
"Wh-what?" Shawn said in disbelief. Slowly his brain caught up with his ears. "Did you say that John is J.T.'s father? Dad, please tell me I misheard you. You are J.T.'s father!"  
  
Belle just stood there in numbed shock, eyes transfixed on the scene before her. Surely she had misunderstood.  
  
Bo looked on his son sadly. He hadn't wanted the truth to come out, not like this anyway. "I am his father, in the ways that count."  
  
"What the HELL does that mean?!" Shawn cried angrily. He waited with baited breath for his father to reassure him, to deny what he had said earlier. Shawn looked at both of his parents, saw the looks on their faces. He felt rocks settle in his gut.  
  
Bo tried to explain. "Ever since your mom told me she was pregnant, I knew that I wasn't the father. Your mom and I hadn't been together at that time. John…"  
  
Shawn laughed mirthlessly and ran his fingers through his hair. "No, I can't be hearing this. You're telling me that John, John Black, Belle's father is my little brother's father? That Belle and I share a brother now?" Shawn was hit by sudden wave of revulsion. He looked at Belle and found the same emotion reflected in her wide blue eyes.  
  
Belle looked at Shawn and found herself backing away, out of the room. This was too much. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wouldn't believe it until she'd talked to her father. She noiselessly ran out of the Brady home toward her parents' penthouse.  
  
Shawn wanted to stop Belle, comfort her. But he didn't. Instead, he turned to face his mother. "How could this happen?" he asked coldly.  
  
Bo answered in Hope's defense. He moved to stand by his wife and clasped her hand in his. He knew that their family would need to be strong, united, if they were to survive. He explained to Shawn the special circumstances behind J.T.'s conception, Stefano's involvement, and their reasons for keeping it secret.  
  
"Yes, we should have told you, a long time ago." Bo told him. Hope looked at her husband in wonder. He squeezed her hand in return. "But I hope that you will consider what I've told you. This doesn't change how I feel about your brother one bit. He's still my son. And this doesn't have to change your relationship with Belle, either."  
  
Shawn kept his eyes on the floor, on the sofa, anywhere but on his parents. He just couldn't look at them yet. He was still trying to understand that his little brother was now someone else's son. And that someone else was John Black.  
  
"I…I gotta get some air." And he turned and left the house.  
  
  
  
Marlena gingerly held the ice pack to her husband's bruised face. She winced sympathetically at his dark swollen eye. "We're going to have to tell the kids, John."  
  
He shook his head. "No. Not until we've talked with Bo and Hope. They may not want Shawn to know."  
  
"Too late for that." They heard the kitchen door slam shut and looked to see Belle standing there, tears streaming from her eyes.  
  
John immediately reached out for his little girl. "Belle, what's wrong?"  
  
Belle looked at her father's bruised face and her features crumpled. "Oh God. It's true. You're J.T.'s father." She whimpered as fresh tears poured from her eyes. "How can this be happening?" she looked at her father for explanation, her lips trembling.  
  
John closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His nightmare was coming true. He steeled himself for the coming confrontation. He turned to face his little girl. "Yes, sweetie. I'm afraid it's true. J.T. is my son."  
  
"Noooo" Belle moaned, feeling her life begin to fall apart. "How… you and Hope Brady? My boyfriend's mother?! God, no." she choked out through her sobs.  
  
John felt his heart break at the anguish on his little girl's face. He reached out to comfort her, but she just pushed him away. Through the tears in her eyes, he could see the anger that she was feeling for him. He saw the pain, sadness and disgust reflected on her face. "Belle…"  
  
"Don't." she interrupted as she backed away from him. She looked at her mom for support. "You've known too, huh. Both of you have known all this time." She backed away from her parents. "I can't. I can't." she said simply. She couldn't stand the sight of them. As she felt her heart shatter into pieces, she thought of the one person who could help her. "I can't be around you right now. I'm going to Brady's." she said and left the penthouse, leaving her parents to wonder how they were going to fix their family.  
  
  
  
"Mmmmm. Hey, I taste… onions and…mushrooms." Chloe remarked dreamily after breaking her kiss with Brady.  
  
Brady nipped her lightly on her mouth, catching her lower lip softly with his perfectly white teeth. "That's probably because I had onions and mushrooms on my cheeseburger."  
  
The two were reclined on the couch in Brady's loft. They had been watching a movie, but they kept getting…distracted. They had finally turned the TV off so they could focus fully on their…distraction. Chloe lay underneath Brady in the crook of his arm. His fingers roamed in her hair as he kissed her powerfully.  
  
Chloe moaned and shifted beneath him. She wrapped her arms around his lower back and slipped her hands under his shirt. She loved to run her fingers along his powerful muscles. Brady smiled and rewarded Chloe by pulling his black tank over his head. Her eyes widened in desire as she drank in the sight of his naked torso. She ran her fingernails over his tanned chest, lightly flicking his nipples.  
  
He groaned and captured her mouth once more, his tongue dancing with hers. They spent many minutes passionately kissing, each lost in the overwhelming sensations. Brady felt himself quickly losing control of his faculties. He was dangerously close to crossing a line that he had set as a boundary for himself and their physical relationship. But his need for Chloe was so intense, and she was so willing, so passionate beneath him. His reasons for holding back were flying from his mind.  
  
So he was both disappointed and relieved to hear the doorbell ring. It took a few seconds to register through the haze in their minds. Brady reluctantly broke their kiss and disentangled himself from Chloe. She worked to make herself presentable while Brady answered the door.  
  
"Tink!" he said in surprise as she breezed in past him. He immediately noticed her red eyes and tear stained cheeks. "Belle what's wrong?" he asked, as fear hammered at his heart. Had something happed to someone?  
  
Belle looked at him to reply. She took in his shirtless state and then noticed Chloe on the couch fixing her hair. "Oh, Brady, I'm so sorry. I forgot you were on a date. I'll just be leaving." She turned to leave.  
  
"No, wait. Stay. What's wrong, Belle? Is it Shawn? Did he do hurt you?" he asked as he peered into her eyes.  
  
At the mention of Shawn's name, Belle broke down into tears. She knew things for them would never be the same after this night.  
  
Brady wrapped Belle in a strong hug, feeling both angry and protective. He couldn't stand to see Belle hurt, especially over some guy, even if it was Shawn. He motioned to Chloe with his eyes. As she got up to leave he mouthed to her, "I'll call you later tonight." She nodded and left the two siblings alone.  
  
Belle pulled out of Brady's bear hug. "It isn't Shawn." She said through sniffles. "It's Dad. Shawn and I found out… we found out." She bit her lip painfully as tears once again filled her eyes.  
  
Brady gripped her shoulders and looked in her eyes. "What did you find out?"  
  
Belle returned Brady's gaze. Her voice was distant. "We found out that Dad is J.T.'s father. Our father had sex with Shawn's mom." Belle laughed hysterically at the absurdity of the situation. "Shawn and I share a baby brother! Oh my God! I have a baby brother!" She collapsed into a fit of tearful giggles while Brady stood stone-faced.  
  
His mind reeled from shock. His father and Hope Brady? They have a child together? What the hell was going on in their family? They had all worked so hard to come together, to mend the wounds of the past, now to have it all fall apart. {I have a baby brother.}  
  
He pushed aside his own pain and focused on his little sister. Her crazed fit of laughter was quickly dissolving into heartbreaking sobs. He knelt down to where she sat on the floor and again took her in his arms. They held each other for a long time, taking refuge from their pain in their embrace.  
  
Belle felt herself gradually return to normal. She smiled wryly. "Wow. I've been dating my brother's brother."  
  
Brady chuckled, glad to see his resilient sister bounce back. "Hey, what about me? My dad had sex with my cousin's mom. How gross is that?"  
  
Belle laughed. "We are a Springer waiting to happen."  
  
"All we need is a jealous lesbian lover and a trailer park and we're there." He looked down at his little sister seriously. "You okay?"  
  
"No. But I will be. Brady, I can't face them yet. Can I stay here?"  
  
She was exhausted from her draining emotional battle. Brady got her settled into his bed, and then made his bed on the couch downstairs. He quickly fell asleep, forgetting his promise to call Chloe. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen  
  
Later that same night…  
  
In a room at Salem University Hospital, she stirred in her sleep. She turned, her long red hair spilling over the stark white pillow. The staff here called her Ariel, but once upon a time she had another name. A time remembered only in her dreams.  
  
"Brianna" he called. "I'm coming to get ye!" The little girl giggled and moved farther back into her hiding place. She loved the castle she lived in; it had so many good places to hide. A couple of minutes passed with her pursuer wandering the pathways near her hiding spot. Finally he stopped a few feet away and scratched his head.  
  
"Hmmm" he said loudly as he tilted his head. "Now I wonder where she could be."  
  
Brianna laughed noiselessly. This was her favorite game. She jumped out in front of her big brother; her arms open wide as if to say, "Here I am!"  
  
He laughed and snatched her up in his arms causing the little girl to laugh even harder. "Now I have ye! And I'm never gonna let ye go!" Her big brother said as he tickled her. He was actually her uncle; though at fifteen he was only ten years older than she. Their closeness in age had made them very close. That day Brianna was very upset, for her brother was leaving for school.  
  
She heard her grandmother's voice floating up from downstairs. "Colin! Have ye found the little terror yet?"  
  
"Yes, Ma!" he answered as he headed downstairs, the little terror in his arms. He stopped outside in front of the old castle and set her down on the ground.  
  
Her grandmother came up to them, wiping her hands on her apron. "Ye'd better get going, son. Ye don't want t' miss the train."  
  
The young man was about to enter the waiting car when Brianna latched onto his legs. He looked down to see the wee girl crying, hugging his legs firmly. He looked to his mother for help. He was saved instead by his older brother Tom.  
  
"I've got her." At the sound of her father's voice she broke away from Colin toward her daddy who picked her up in his arms. Brianna cried onto her father's shoulder. He patted her hair lovingly, running his fingers through the thick mass of red curls. "I know, Brianna. I'm going to miss Uncle Colin too. But he'll be back before ye know it."  
  
But she never saw him again.  
  
Her dream changed, grew dark. Visions and images whirled through her mind. Men with guns charging into her home. Her grandparents lying on the cold stone ground, blood pouring from them in rivers that stained her hands and clothing. She ran and hid, but still he found her. He took her, and so many horrible things happened. She can't remember, she doesn't want to remember.  
  
Ariel woke with a start. She got out of bed and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. She looked with blankly staring eyes, barely aware of the world around her, lost in her own world. She went to the window and opened it. Soon she was on the roof of the building.  
  
She opened her mouth, and as she has done every night, she sang her song. The mournful melody carried on the breeze, infiltrating the minds of the sleeping inhabitants of the town before her. If you could see her, you would probably say that she looked like an angel; radiant, glowing, long hair flowing around her. But just as most mortal ears can't hear her song, mortal eyes cannot see her either.  
  
She has no knowledge of what she's doing. And in the morning, she will have no memory of it either. She sings in answer to a call deep inside her, a call to find herself and her family.  
  
This is her song, a song of her life. It is a song of sorrow, a song of pain, a song of death.  
  
  
  
When the evening falls and the daylight is fading,  
  
From within me calls – could it be I am sleeping?  
  
For a moment I stray, then it holds me completely.  
  
Close to home- I cannot say.  
  
Close to home feeling so far away.  
  
  
  
Chloe stirred from her sleep, her troubling dreams disappearing like the whispered notes on the wind. She stood up and walked slowly to the window. She scrambled up the shingles and stood on top of the roof. She opened her mouth, in response to the summons, and continued the song she has been singing for months.  
  
As I walk the room there before me a shadow  
  
From another world, where no other can follow  
  
Carry me to my own, to where I can cross over…  
  
Close to home – I cannot say  
  
Close to home feeling so far away  
  
The two stood on their respective roofs, miles away from each other, their glowing lights shining like beacons in the night. Each felt like they were connecting with some long forgotten part of their souls, once more becoming their destiny.  
  
Forever searching; never right.  
  
I am lost in oceans of night.  
  
Forever hoping I can find memories  
  
Those memories I left behind.  
  
Even though I leave will I go on believing  
  
That this time is real – am I lost in this feeling?  
  
Like a child passing through, never knowing the reason  
  
I am home – I know the way.  
  
I am home – feeling oh, so far away.  
  
  
  
Colin tossed in his bed and whimpered softly. He could still hear their music. Twenty years and thousands of miles away, their music still haunted him. Reminded him.  
  
He stood at their graves in darkness, with only a small flashlight to see by. He flashed the light on the tombstones, once again reading their words. He dropped white lilies on each of the graves as he said goodbye.  
  
Shane Cassidy  
  
1931-1982  
  
Father.  
  
Roma Murphy Cassidy  
  
1935-1982  
  
Mother.  
  
Maeve O'Rourke Cassidy  
  
1950-1982  
  
Maeve was his cousin Sean's wife, who had been staying with them while Sean worked undercover for Interpol.  
  
He looked at the last tiny grave, as bitter rage and grief surged through him.  
  
Brianna Cassidy  
  
1978-1982  
  
Colin had rushed home after hearing the reports that violent fighting had broken out in nearby Dublin. Violent factions of the IRA had grown tired of waiting for Irish independence and so had taken matters into their own hands. His brother Tom was heavily involved in some of these factions and was believed to have taken part in some of the worst acts of violence ever committed in recent years. Colin feared that someone would seek retribution for Tom's crimes.  
  
He returned home to find that someone already had. Their castle had been firebombed. The burned bodies of his family were barely recognizable. Brianna had been so badly damaged that only the size of her body, and her bright red hair identified her.  
  
He looked out over their graves, wondering who could be so unbelievably cruel. To slaughter an entire family because of the actions of one man. He vowed to find the answer, and to bring that person to justice. But for now he had to think of his own safety. Close family friends had reason to believe that whoever killed Colin's family would be coming after him as well. That night he dropped the Cassidy from his name and adopted his mother's maiden name, Murphy. He left Ireland to stay with friends in Australia.  
  
He left Ireland, but he could not leave Ireland behind. It stayed with him always, haunting him. His family stood before him in his dreams, pleading with him to avenge their deaths. He saw each of their faces. His last image before he woke was of his little niece Brianna, her green eyes burning into his mind.  
  
  
  
Song credits: Evening Falls by Enya 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen  
  
Chloe disgustedly threw her sheet music onto the floor. She got up from her bed and paced her room. Her audition was now less than one week away and she was still no closer to being ready. Her beautiful voice still sounded flat, emotionless, dead.  
  
"There is no way I'm going to make it into Julliard. They see thousands of very talented applicants. How am I going to impress them with this soulless, mechanical voice?" she sighed aloud.  
  
She flopped onto her bed, scattering her collection of stuffed animals. She chewed on her bottom lip as anxiety twisted her stomach into knots. Unfortunately, her upcoming audition was only one source of her worries.  
  
She nervously twisted her ring around her finger. {I wish Brady were here.} Two days had passed since she left Brady's apartment so that he could comfort an upset Belle. Contrary to his promise, Brady didn't call her that night, or any night since then. Chloe had called him a few times, only to find Brady distant and closed off.  
  
Chloe sighed deeply, hugging one of her favorite teddy bears to her chest. She knew something was bothering Brady, something huge. {I wish he would confide in me. Or at least let me comfort him.} But he didn't. Whatever it was that was wrong in Brady's life, he seemed determined to suffer through it alone.  
  
Chloe had reacted by giving him space, hoping that he would eventually come to her. She sat up on her bed, her back stiffening. Two days was long enough. {If he won't come to me, then I'll just have to go to him and make him talk to me.} Anxiety spasmed through her once more. What if they couldn't work through this, whatever it was? What if he doesn't want her anymore?  
  
She remembered their previous conversation. She still didn't know how their future stood. And now suddenly, there was this distance between them.  
  
{Stop this! Brady loves you!} she told herself firmly. {Whatever is going on in his life right now has nothing to do with you.}  
  
Once again though, she heard his voice in her head. "Young love…may not last." He was referring to Belle and Shawn, two kids who were as in love as any two people that Chloe knew. And yet…  
  
Chloe's mind flashed back to two nights ago. After coming home from her halted date with Brady, she had crawled almost immediately into bed, phone by her head, waiting for his call. She had soon fallen asleep, only to be awoken by a tapping at her window. She excitedly flew out of bed, expecting to see Brady. Her heart fell to see Shawn instead at her window, having just climbed up the trellis outside.  
  
"Shawn!" she exclaimed softly. "What are you doing here?" she whispered as she helped him into her room. She was immediately concerned by his expression. He looked like he had just lost everything that was important to him.  
  
"Shawn, what is it? It's not J.T, is it?" she was moved nearly to tears, overwhelmed by the need to comfort her friend. She moved Shawn over to her bed, where they sat down side by side.  
  
He laughed humorlessly. "No, J.T.'s just fine." He stared down at her bedroom floor, unmoving. "Sorry. I didn't really know where to go. I need to talk to someone, and I can't talk to Belle right now, so…" he trailed off, not looking at her.  
  
She laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. "It's, it's okay. I'm here whenever you need me." She inhaled deeply. "Did something happen with you and Belle?" she asked fearfully. She remembered Belle's tear-stained face. Surely these two, who had such a strong relationship, would be okay.  
  
Shawn laughed again and looked Chloe in the eyes for the first time. She was shocked to see the naked hurt in his eyes. "Let's just say that our relationship…has changed. I don't think that it will ever be the same again."  
  
Her bright blue eyes locked onto his dark brown ones. She moved closer to him and reached for his hand. "Tell me what happened." She whispered.  
  
"I…can't. It's about…our families. Something our parents did…. I can't talk about it." He replied, pained anguish coloring his voice.  
  
"Okay. What do you want to do?" she asked, searching for a way to help her friend.  
  
"Can I stay here? Just for a little while." The two stayed and talked about inane subjects, like school, the latest movies, and music for a few hours and then Shawn went back home, leaving the same way he had come in.  
  
"What is going on?" Chloe murmured to herself in her mirror. It's like Brady's words were coming to life. Belle and Shawn falling apart right in front of her very eyes. If those two, who have spent the last two years madly in love, and who were best friends since childhood before that; if those two were having trouble, then what hope was there for she and Brady?  
  
{Why are you doing this to yourself? You KNOW Brady loves you.} She told herself. And she was right. She knew that Brady loved her. {I'm just tired. Maybe if I could get a decent night's sleep without all these strange dreams, then I wouldn't be so nervous.} The last several nights a strange moaning wind had howled outside her house causing her to have the most unsettling dreams. She vaguely remembered dreams of flying in the air, singing a sad, beautiful song, with a powerful emotive force. And seeing another face, like hers, but different. Pale, porcelain skin, red hair, green eyes. And always that song.  
  
Chloe laughed and shook her head. {That's it; I'm going to bed early tonight. After I talk to Brady, that is.} She headed downstairs while humming a happy little tune. She stopped to find her parents deeply engrossed in a serious conversation.  
  
"Um, Mom, Dad, am I interrupting something?"  
  
Nancy appeared hesitant. "Well, Chloe honey…"  
  
Craig interrupted his lovely wife. "Chloe, we have some bad news."  
  
Chloe paled visibly. "What… What is it?" she croaked.  
  
Craig rushed to reassure her. "Nothing devastating, sweetie. It's just, well, we just realized that Julliard moved your audition up to the same weekend that we are going to be on vacation. We want to cancel, but we've already paid for the vacation package, and it is non-refundable."  
  
Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't even think about canceling!" Chloe sent a warning glare to Nancy. "Don't argue with me, Mom. You two deserve this vacation; you haven't had one in years. It's not your fault Julliard moved up the audition date."  
  
Nancy spoke up. "I know, sweetie, but we just don't want to miss your audition! We want to support you."  
  
Chloe smiled at her mom. "And you will be there supporting me, in spirit if not in flesh. Trust me, there are going to be plenty of auditions for you to attend. You are going on that trip, and that's final."  
  
"But honey, how will you get there?"  
  
"Brady will take her, Nancy. Everything will be just fine. Stop trying to get out of this vacation. You act like you don't want to be all alone with me in an exotic, secluded resort." Craig finished as he began nuzzling his wife's neck, causing giggles to fly out of her mouth.  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes and then nervously bit her lip. {I hope Brady will take me.} Then she smiled wickedly. {Of course, this certainly creates some possibilities. Me and Brady all alone in New York for the weekend?}  
  
She turned to her parents who were now lip-locked. "Ahem…AHEM! I'm going to see Brady."  
  
Craig frowned slightly. "That might not be a good idea, sweetheart."  
  
"What, why not?"  
  
"You should probably take a look at this." He handed her a folded up paper. It was the latest edition of the Spectator, Salem's own cheap, tabloid magazine.  
  
Her eyes froze on the cover. There, splashed across the front page were pictures of John Black and Hope Brady. A lurid headline screamed, "Families ripped apart by shocking secret!" She opened the magazine, hurriedly searching for the cover article. She found it on page two.  
  
"John Black fathered Hope Brady's child." Her eyes flew through the article, reading and rereading the black print. John was J.T.'s father. She looked up at Craig. "This, this can't be true. Can it?"  
  
Craig looked down at her, wanting to console her. "I don't know, sweetheart. I do know that a few days ago, Bo ordered a paternity test on J.T. As for the rest, consider the source. The Spectator is infamous for dragging good, honest names through the mud, all on the account of rumor and gossip."  
  
Chloe stood still, eyes unfocused. She saw Belle's distraught face, remembered Shawn's strange visit, his cryptic words. It was true. John was the father of Hope's baby. She closed her eyes as both sadness and relief washed over her. That was why Brady had seemed so closed off from her. He had this huge family problem to deal with. And it's also why he didn't tell her about it; he wanted to keep it in the family.  
  
She took solace upstairs in her room. {Brady,} she cried, {what you must be going through right now. How can I help him?} She reached over to her nightstand and grabbed her favorite picture. It was of the two of them just after Christmas. They were both gazing into each other's eyes, expressions full of love. Chloe leaned back on her bed and cradled the picture to her heart as lone tears escaped her eyes.  
  
  
  
Elsewhere…  
  
He was looking at the same picture. He traced her face lightly with his finger. {I miss you so much, Chloe.} He had wanted so much to open up to her, take comfort in her warm embrace, in her soothing kiss. But he couldn't. This was too personal.  
  
{Or at least it was.} He thought in disgust as he looked at the trashy newspaper rag in his hand. {Nothing like seeing your private, secret hell revealed on page one for the entire world to see.} With a deep sigh he realized that this meant that Chloe probably knew by now. The whole sordid story.  
  
{So, there's no point in me keeping this from her.} Brady resolved to see Chloe after his upcoming meeting with his parents. {I've got to make this up to her. I know I've really hurt her with my attitude.} He had wanted to tell her, so many times. But he couldn't; he was still dealing with everything himself.  
  
He dropped the tabloid in the trash as he heard his sister's steps behind him. She had spent the last two days here in his loft. She just hadn't been ready to face her parents. Today, they were going to go together, to try to begin the healing.  
  
"You ready?" he asked, looking down at his little sister. She had changed a great deal in the last two days. Her eyes were older, wiser, sadder.  
  
She nodded simply. "Yeah. Let's go."  
  
As they left, Brady sent one last longing glance at Chloe's picture and vowed to heal their relationship. 


	20. Chapter Twenty

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty  
  
"What's your story, Ariel?" Marlena wondered aloud. She was in her home office at the penthouse. She had decided to take her mind off of the upcoming meeting with Belle and Brady by reviewing the files of her newest patient. Upon closer examination of the mysterious young woman, they had discovered that she is totally mute. She simply has no vocal cords. The doctors had found no evidence of surgical removal; it was like she had never had them.  
  
Marlena had also done some preliminary research on the symbols they found etched on Ariel's wrists. She discovered that the marks were Celtic in origin, but she didn't have a clue what they meant.  
  
{At least this gives us a place to start. I'm willing to bet that Ariel's Irish; she probably came from Ireland. Hmmm. I wonder if Shawn Brady (Sr.) can help with these symbols.} Marlena glanced at the Spectator lying in the wastebasket beside her desk. {Of course, I'm probably not his favorite person right now. I'm sure the news has hit the Bradys hard. Learning that their little grandson is not Bo's son, but John's. Best to give them all some space.}  
  
She glanced at her watch. Belle and Brady would be here soon. Her heart ached for her little girl. The look in Belle's eyes two days ago continued to haunt her. It killed her to see the shock, the pain, the anger in her daughter's blue eyes. Belle hadn't even given them the chance to explain – she had just stormed out. Marlena sighed. Hopefully today they'd be able to explain what happened and why they chose to hide the truth.  
  
Marlena's gaze fell on a picture on her desk. It was of the four of them; she, John, Belle and Brady. It had been taken years ago, when the kids were still kids. She gently traced Brady's young face and smiled tenderly. {I wonder how Brady's doing. He's probably so busy trying to comfort his sister that he's ignoring his own needs.} Marlena smiled wryly. {Just like his father.} She prayed that this wouldn't ruin their relationship. It had taken them so long to work through the anger and the pain of the past. They were finally close again. Like when he was a little boy. She firmly put her anxious thoughts out of her mind. They will get through this. Somehow.  
  
She joined her husband in the living room where he sat on the couch glaring angrily at the Spectator held in his hands. She gently laid her hand on his shoulder and kissed his temple.  
  
"Can you believe this?" he asked angrily, motioning to the trash magazine's lurid cover. "What do you want to bet that Stefano's behind this? It's not enough for him to tell Bo, he has to leak the story to some…tabloid?! Damn him!" John cursed violently. He stood up and quickly paced the room.  
  
"It's all my fault." He murmured, guilt racking his body. "This is revenge for our earlier confrontation."  
  
Marlena tried to soothe her upset husband. "You don't know that."  
  
"Oh what, it's just coincidence that mere hours after I stormed into his mansion and unsuccessfully planted a bug there, he just decided to tell Bo that I was J.T.'s father?" He stopped his pacing and sighed deeply. "No, I was foolish enough to take on the lion in his den, and now everyone I love is paying the price for my arrogance."  
  
"Stop this! This is not your fault!" Marlena cried while she cupped his face with her hands. "Stefano is just playing his sick, sadistic game with us. You know that he would have eventually revealed the truth. John, he orchestrated the events that led to the boy's conception in the first place! Stefano is to blame – for all of it!"  
  
She gazed firmly into John's eyes. "We are going to get through this. Our family is tough. We will come out of this even stronger than before."  
  
John returned her gaze sadly. "I can't forget the look in her eyes. She hates me, Marlena. I know it. And, Oh God, Brady. I haven't even thought about how he's handling it."  
  
He dropped back down on the couch, his shoulders slumped. "When I decided to give up my rights to J.T., I was only thinking about me. It didn't occur to me that I was depriving Belle and Brady of the chance to know their baby brother." He exhaled lowly. "My God. What have I done?"  
  
Marlena hugged him closely. She hated to see the man she loved beat himself up like this. "You did what you felt was right. We all did."  
  
The penthouse door clicked and they both turned to see it slowly open. Belle and Brady stood framed in the doorway, wary expressions on their stone faces.  
  
Belle was still very upset, so Brady spoke up instead. He looked at his father and said simply, "We need to talk."  
  
John looked at his grown up son and replied with a deep sigh.  
  
"Yes, Yes we do."  
  
  
  
Bo hugged his amazingly beautiful wife to him and kissed her temple. "I love you, Fancy Face." He murmured in her hair. Hope simply sighed and smiled contentedly. She wondered what she had done to deserve such a wonderful husband. Not even three days after finding out that she had lied to him about J.T.'s father, Bo had already forgiven her completely. And he had just proved it to her by making sweet, tender love to her.  
  
Granted, the last couple of days had been rough. Not only was Bo still dealing with the feelings of betrayal; but their son Shawn had also learned the truth and was taking the news hard. Shawn. He was still hurting, still so angry, so confused. Maybe that was why Bo had forgiven her so readily. By defending her to Shawn, he was reminded that it wasn't her fault. That Stefano was to blame for everything.  
  
Bo gently caressed his wife's shoulder. He had been so angry, so hurt by Hope's lies. But over time he came to understand her reasons. He still didn't agree with them, but he could understand. It had been a terrible shock for her, after everything she had already endured that year, to learn that her son wasn't Bo's.  
  
Bo remembered that horrible year and shuddered. Stefano had activated a long hidden microchip in Hope's brain, causing her to believe that she was another person, Princess Gina. Bo had fought long and hard to win Hope's personality back only to lose her when the real Princess Gina abducted Hope and locked her in a castle in Europe. Gina then returned to Salem masquerading as Hope; he even married her, he was so fooled by her. But then Gina died and his heart died with her. Once again, he had lost his Hope. It was many long and painful months before he finally found her alive in the castle. He had vowed then that he would never lose her again.  
  
That's why he had forgiven her. He had remembered what life was like without her, and he knew that he could never do anything to jeopardize what they have. Of course, Hope had also reminded him of all the hell she had suffered on account of his old flame, Billie. Bo was reminded that he wasn't perfect himself.  
  
He smiled down at his love and kissed her lips softly. Stefano wasn't going to tear their family apart.  
  
Hope stretched and yawned happily. "I better check on J.T."  
  
Bo watched Hope wrap herself in a silk robe and head into J.T.'s room. {What did I do to deserve such a wonderful wife?} he asked himself with a smile.  
  
His smile vanished with Hope's plaintive cry.  
  
"Bo! Get in here!"  
  
  
  
The three of them stood anxiously in the waiting room at Salem University Hospital. Hope had frantically called Bo when she found that J.T. wasn't breathing. Her son had been nearly blue and nothing she tried worked. He did begin breathing again, but it was painfully obvious that something was wrong with their little boy. The two of them and Shawn raced to the hospital where Craig and Colin immediately began treating him. Craig had come out once to say that J.T. appeared to be suffering from a serious complication due to his FAS. He had then rushed back into the emergency room to try to save the boy's life.  
  
Bo hugged Hope to his chest. "He'll be alright. We've been through this before. He's going to be fine." He said soothingly. Hope merely whimpered helplessly.  
  
Shawn had collapsed in a chair, his face a stoic mask. J.T. was his everything. He couldn't imagine life without his baby brother. Without thinking, he pulled out his cell phone and automatically dialed her number.  
  
Bo led Hope to a chair and handed her a cup of coffee. He debated internally for a brief second before realizing what he had to do.  
  
"I'm going to call John."  
  
  
  
John looked at his two children before him. "And that's everything." He and Marlena had just spent the last thirty minutes giving Belle and Brady all the details behind J.T.'s conception. Everything. His previous life as Stefano's mercenary, and Hope's life as Princess Gina, the microchips that had been implanted in their minds controlling their thoughts and actions. Everything.  
  
Belle and Brady just sat there while they tried to absorb it all. It had been difficult hearing about their father's hidden identity as a cold- blooded mercenary. Even more difficult to hear about his passionate love for Princess Gina. They looked at their father, and found themselves looking at someone they didn't know.  
  
Belle pushed her father out of her mind. She couldn't deal with that yet. She turned instead to her mother. "So how long have you known?" she asked calmly, her face void of all emotions.  
  
"I learned the truth about J.T. shortly after your father did. I've known for over two years now."  
  
Belle repeated her mother's reply cryptically. "Two years, huh? It's all making sense now."  
  
Marlena looked at her young daughter. She was concerned by Belle's lack of emotional response. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Two years ago would be about the time that Brady came back. I have never understood why you were so angry with him. I mean you were responsible for the crazed police chase that almost KILLED him!"  
  
"Belle…" Brady calmly interjected. There was no point in dragging the past up again.  
  
Belle ignored her brother. "I mean sure, he wasn't the easiest person to get along with then, but you went out of your way to be a BITCH to him and now I know why."  
  
"Belle!" John exclaimed harshly at Belle's treatment of his wife.  
  
Belle whirled on her father, blue fire flashing in her eyes. He was taken aback by the unbridled fury reflected on her young face.  
  
She continued coldly to her mother. "No wonder you were so horrible to Brady. Here you just had learned that your husband had fathered a child with another woman and now here's Brady, another child your husband had with someone else. You couldn't be angry with Dad so you took it out on Brady! What would the big psychiatry books call it? Transference?!" She crossed her arms firmly and stared at the ceiling, blinking back angry tears.  
  
Brady grasped her shoulders and looked in her watering eyes. "Belle." He said firmly. "This isn't doing us any good. That was then, this is now. Okay, just let it go." He fought down his own pain and bitterness at the past. Now he knew why Marlena had treated him the way she did. It still hurt, but he understood. Anyway, she was a different person then. They both were.  
  
Brady pulled her into a deep hug as she unleashed her tears. She was now seeing her parents in a whole new light, and it scared her. They weren't the people she thought they were.  
  
John and Marlena sadly watched their two children, trying to think of the right words to say, the right thing to do to make this better. Marlena stood slowly and cleared her throat. She faced her children and spoke with tears in her eyes. "You are right, Belle. I was very angry with your father. But I also understood that he was a victim, too. I couldn't be upset with him. This left me feeling frustrated with unfocused anger. So Brady came back and like a lightening rod, attracted that anger. I unleashed on him what I couldn't do to your father."  
  
She gently brushed the hair out of Brady's face and looked sadly into his deep blue eyes. "And for that I am truly sorry, Brady. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. Can you ever forgive me?"  
  
He smiled back. "Well, I deserved some of it. And you're already forgiven."  
  
Both Belle and John smiled deeply to see Brady and Marlena hug, burying their past mistakes. Maybe, there was a chance for their family after all. Belle locked eyes with her father. Her cold demeanor softened slightly. Maybe.  
  
Their tender moment was interrupted by the ringing telephone. John picked up the receiver. "John Black." He answered simply. He paled visibly and hung up the phone without saying a word.  
  
He slowly turned to his waiting family. "We have to go to the hospital."  
  
"There's something wrong with J.T." 


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
1 Chapter Twenty-one  
  
Chloe rushed breathlessly into the emergency waiting room. She scanned the room and headed over to where Shawn sat with his head in his hands. "Shawn" she breathed as she threw her arms around him. "How is he?"  
  
He looked up and Chloe could see the worry reflected in his dark brown eyes. "We don't know…Craig and Colin are in with him now."  
  
Chloe gave her friend another deep hug. "What happened?"  
  
Shawn straightened in his chair and focused his gaze out in front of him. He fought to compose himself. "He had one of his attacks, like he used to get when he was younger. Mom found him, um he wasn't breathing and his color was wrong, almost blue. He did finally start breathing, but he still doesn't seem right. The doctors have been in there for a while and no one will tell us anything."  
  
Chloe gently grasped his tense shoulder. "I'm sure that Craig will tell you as soon as he knows anything." She pensively bit her lip, wishing she knew how to help her friend.  
  
Shawn glanced at her sideways. "I'm guessing that you know…about J.T.?"  
  
Chloe simply nodded. "I'm so sorry, Shawn. I can't imagine what you must be going through."  
  
He continued staring out in front of him. "Funny. When I found out the truth, it had felt like I was losing my brother. And now I really am."  
  
"Don't say that!" Chloe said softly. "J.T. is going to be fine. You said it yourself; he used to get these attacks all the time. He survived then; he'll make it now. Remember, he's tough; he's a Brady."  
  
Shawn smiled in spite of himself. "Yeah, he is." Shawn smiled gratefully at Chloe. "You know, all my life I've wanted a baby brother. I've just always wanted someone to watch over and protect. Someone who would look up to me. I used to imagine all the things we'd do together. I'd teach him boating, and how to fish. We'd play catch and I'd show him my curve ball." He smiled, lost in his dreams.  
  
He sighed and slumped his shoulders, wondering if those dreams would ever become reality. "It's weird, J.T. is only two years old, and he can't do much, but I can't imagine having anymore fun with him then I do now. Just sitting with him, watching him play with his toys, seeing how he interacts with his world. It's the most amazing thing." Shawn trailed off then, suddenly moved with emotion.  
  
Chloe wrapped her arm around his drooped shoulders. She decided to take his mind off of his little brother by opening up to him about some of her old dreams. "When I was younger and staying at some of the foster homes, I used to daydream that I had a big brother. He was sooo big and strong and I dreamed that he would come and take me out of the foster homes."  
  
Chloe smiled wistfully and Shawn looked at her tenderly. "My imagination was so detailed; I knew exactly what he would look like. He was tall, had brown hair and blue eyes like me. He was like, really tough and he rode a motorcycle. I would close my eyes at night and dream of when he would rescue me. He'd ride in on his bike, eyes blazing with fire and he'd snatch me up in his strong arms and tell my foster parents something like, "If you ever come near my sister again I'll kill you!" Then I'd ride off with him on his motorcycle, safe and happy."  
  
She grew quiet and closed her eyes against the pain of her childhood. Shawn reached over and took her hand in his. "Hey, I'll make you a deal okay? You can be my little sister and I'll be your big brother. Okay?" Shawn said with a smile.  
  
Chloe laughed, her blue eyes sparkling. "Deal."  
  
  
  
John entered the quiet waiting room with his family close behind him. Without even pausing, he walked over to Bo and Hope for news on his son. Marlena hesitated a moment and then followed her husband.  
  
John came up to Bo who held Hope in a tight embrace. "Thanks for calling me, Bo." John's eyes reflected his gratitude for the man who had every reason to hate him, but had still found a way to push that hatred aside for the good of his son, no, their son.  
  
Bo's eyes spoke volumes of the pain, sadness, forgiveness that he felt. "Don't mention it, John. Right now J.T. needs all of us."  
  
  
  
The two siblings stood awkwardly in the waiting room still trying to process the recent turn of events. They were just beginning to accept that they had a little brother and now there was something seriously wrong with him.  
  
Belle looked around the sterile waiting room. "I'm going to try to find Shawn." She nervously wondered what she was going to say – she hadn't seen or talked to Shawn since they first found out the horrible truth. She found Shawn and Chloe in a secluded corner sharing a friendly hug. She stood in front of them, wondering anxiously how to approach him.  
  
Chloe noticed Belle and stood up. "I'll just give you two some time alone. Shawn, it's going to be okay." She said as she squeezed his shoulder. She gave Belle a deep hug and then left the two alone.  
  
  
  
Chloe found him sitting by himself with his head in his hands. She gently caressed Brady's shoulder causing him to jump slightly. He looked up quickly and locked eyes with her, a thousand emotions washing over him at the sight. He was overcome with shame and remorse, remembering how he had coldly pushed Chloe away, foolishly thinking that he could handle this on his own.  
  
Chloe wordlessly settled onto his lap and cradled his rough face in her hands. He tried to speak, to apologize. "Chloe, I..I…"  
  
"Ssssh, Brady. No words." She soothed as she pulled his tense body into her arms. He hugged her soft body closely to him, taking comfort in her presence. He had missed her so much, these last couple of days. He vowed to never again keep her out of his life. Whatever was going on; he knew that he would need her to help him through it.  
  
They sat like that for many minutes, communing silently with their souls. Chloe felt comforted as her fears for their future were quieted. She knew that whatever lay before them, they would face it together.  
  
Chloe kissed the top of his head tenderly. "Brady, I'm so sorry. For everything. I don't know what to say to make this better."  
  
His bright blue eyes shone as he looked up at her. His voice was rough and gravely. "Don't say anything." He brought his lips up to hers, taking refuge from the cruel present in her sweet kiss. "I love you." He murmured breathlessly in between mind-blowing kisses.  
  
Chloe felt all fear and apprehension fly from her heart. "I love you too, Brady."  
  
  
  
Untold hours passed and they gathered together at an unspoken signal. Bo gently held Hope, while Marlena comforted John. Their kids entered the room in pairs. Brady and Chloe held hands, while Shawn had his arm around Belle's shoulders. They stood there, quietly waiting, somehow knowing that it wouldn't be long now.  
  
A tired, stressed Craig joined them mere moments later. He addressed the small group in front of him calmly and gently. His eyes flickered over Chloe, but he didn't have time to wonder why she was here.  
  
"J.T. is doing fine, at the moment. He has suffered a severe complication due to his Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. One of the valves in his heart had collapsed. Colin and I have worked long and hard to repair the collapse and J.T. is currently stable."  
  
Relief washed over the inhabitants of the waiting room. Craig continued though, a serious expression on his face. "However, the fix is temporary at best. We need to perform surgery to replace the valve, but we can't operate until he has rested and regained his strength. At the very earliest, we maybe able to begin the procedure tomorrow morning."  
  
Craig's face grew even more somber as he tried to prepare his friends. "Provided he makes it through the night. We will monitor him closely. He is still in very critical condition and it could deteriorate at a moment's notice. I advise that you stay here, so that you can be with him, in case he doesn't make it." Craig then left to consult with Colin on J.T.'s case.  
  
Hope buried herself in Bo's arms. "Bo…our baby. God let him be okay." She whimpered softly. Bo hugged her to her tightly, sharing her pain, her fear.  
  
  
  
The family and friends prepared for a long night at the hospital. John and Bo drank massive amounts of strong coffee, while Marlena fixed Hope some herbal tea she had in her office. Belle and Shawn snuggled together on a bench under a blanket.  
  
Brady turned to Chloe who was similarly nestled in his arms. "Do you need me to drive you home?"  
  
"No. I'm staying here." She snuggled closer to him and gradually drifted off to sleep. 


	22. Chapter Twenty-two

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
  
  
Chapter Twenty-Two  
  
  
  
Night settled over the town of Salem, and in a nearby hospital, gathered friends and family found rest despite their worries. One by one they dozed off, while close by a brave little boy fought for his life.  
  
She stirred restlessly in her room down the hall. Once again, Ariel found herself plagued by dreams of forgotten memory. The dream played in her mind like a moving picture, with her as the powerless spectator forced to watch the flashing images.  
  
The dream began with her very first memory of the day they buried her mother. Brianna was cradled in her father's arms as they stood over her mother's grave. Her mum had been very sick for a very long time, and now she was gone. She was in Heaven. And she wouldn't be coming back.  
  
Brianna looked into her father's eyes. His large blue eyes were red and wet with unshed tears. He looked back down at her and smiled. Brianna smiled too when he kissed the top of her head. He held her closer to him and cradled her head in the crook of his neck. She cuddled close to him and cried silent tears for the pain in her father's eyes.  
  
Her dream flashed to another moment of her life one year later. "Hang on tight, Brianna! I'm gonna go really fast!" Brianna laughed noiselessly and clutched Colin's shoulders tightly. He carried her on his back as they raced around the castle courtyard. They soon entered the kitchen and the Colin Express came to a complete stop. Brianna turned her head to hear loud voices from the next room.  
  
Colin flashed her a bright smile. "Och, it looks like yer da is getting excited again. Let's go in and see if ye can't calm him down a bit."  
  
They walked into the dining room where her father Tom was arguing loudly with his cousin Sean. "Am I the only person here who believes Ireland belongs to the Irish?"  
  
Sean sighed heavily. "O'course not, Tom. But there's a right way to go about bringin' change, and what ye're proposin' is not it."  
  
Brianna climbed up onto her father's lap. His hard, angry face softened immediately with her presence. His voice was softer and gentler as he continued his conversation with Sean. She laid her head in the crook of his neck and listened to his rich voice. She was four, and just beginning to wonder why she didn't have a voice of her own.  
  
Brianna placed her small hand on her father's neck. She jumped back excitedly to feel the vibrations from his vocal cords. Her green eyes grew wide as her father looked down at her quizzically. She placed her hand on her neck and opened her mouth to speak.  
  
But there was no sound. And there were no vibrations.  
  
She looked back into her father's deep blue eyes as if to ask, "What's wrong with me?" His eyes clouded with pain and he drew her closely to his chest as tears fell from her eyes.  
  
Again, her dream changed. Her father was away that night. He was away many nights. She never knew where he was or what he was doing, but she knew her family didn't like it; that they were afraid for him. She was five years old and didn't know what the IRA was; didn't know enough to be afraid.  
  
Even though she missed her da greatly, there was plenty of family here to care for her and make her feel loved. Her grandparents had become like second parents ever since her mother died. And her cousin Sean's wife Maeve was living with them while Sean worked under covers for something called enter pole.  
  
That night Brianna had awoken to a noise downstairs. She smiled to think that it was her da coming home. So she hurriedly made her way down the stone stairs of the castle. She stopped still on the last step when she heard the loud angry voices. She could just make out her grandfather's angry cry, "Dimera! Ye aren't going to get anywhere near her!"  
  
But then two loud noises like the sounds of large firecrackers filled the house and echoed loudly in Brianna's ears. She then heard two muffled thuds and then silence.  
  
Brianna crawled into a nearby cubbyhole and hid in the darkness. She heard steps stealthily coming nearer. Two dark men passed her. They were dressed in dark clothing and they carried large evil looking objects that Brianna had seen many times on the news. She remembered that they were called guns, and that guns were used to kill people. People who have been killed are dead. And dead people don't come back. Like her mum.  
  
A third man passed. He carried no gun. He didn't need a gun. He was darker than the others. She could sense his evil, and shrank back from his presence. She held her breath for an endless second, and then he too passed her by.  
  
She scrambled to the living room, from where the dark men had come. Her grandparents lay on the ground, not moving. Brianna saw the dark red blood flowing like rivers from gaping wounds. She looked into her grandmother's wide staring eyes and stumbled backwards from the horrific scene. Blood.  
  
A loud scream brought her out of her terrified shock. She ran back into the hall just in time to see the men gun down her aunt Maeve. Brianna stood still as the multitude of bullets riddled her beloved aunt's body. Aunt Maeve collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose strings have been slashed. The men laughed and stepped over her lifeless body.  
  
She ran to her aunt's body. Tears streamed down her face and she pleaded wordlessly with her aunt not to die. Brianna hugged the still woman to her closely, ignoring the blood that seeped onto her nightgown and her hands. She looked at her small hands covered in the blood of her family. Blood.  
  
Brianna scrambled to the phone in the hall and dialed the police. "Hello?" the woman in the phone asked. Brianna clapped her hands loudly over the receiver, the way she was taught to do with the baby monitor in her room. But this woman on the phone was not her family, and didn't know what the sound meant.  
  
"Hello?" Brianna heard the exasperation in the woman's voice. She clapped louder, tears of desperation streaming down her face. Blood. Her family was dying. Bad men were in the house. She needed help.  
  
"Hello?" Brianna clapped and sobbed. Would someone help her? She clapped her bloody hands together pleading for someone to save her.  
  
click Brianna dropped the receiver to the floor and collapsed from grief and fear. There was blood on her hands. She looked down the hall and saw the blood flowing in dark rivers from her aunt's body. Blood.  
  
She crawled into a nearby hidey-hole as dark footsteps neared. She shrank back into the shadows. But he still found her. The darkest one found her, his hand reaching for her. Light flashed off of the ring on his pinky finger, illuminating the picture of a bird engulfed in flames.  
  
  
  
Brianna laid on a cold stone slab, bound with rope on her arms and legs. Rough hands held sharp razors that slashed her skin. Blood flowed from her skin and fell to the ground. Blood. Her family is dead. She didn't save them.  
  
She cried, seeing their faces in her mind. Seeing the blood. Her father's blue eyes flashed in her mind. Where is he? Would he ever find her? Would he know what happened?  
  
Pain ripped through her, and her strength waned. She cried from fear, from grief, from pain. Blood. Pain. Anger. Death.  
  
Blood. Pain. Anger. Death.  
  
She threw her head back and screamed, power erupting from her throat. She heard a song in her soul and she sang it aloud, giving voice to her emotions. Ancient power flowed through her.  
  
And she sang.  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
  
  
Chloe moaned and shifted in her sleep next to Brady. She was dreaming too.  
  
She stood on the stage at Julliard. She looked out at the three judges and began to sing. Her voice was beautiful, full of emotion. She sang a song she had never heard, but has always known.  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
Cursum perficio  
  
She sang before the judges but something was wrong. She kept seeing him, before her eyes. Dr. Moore was pointing a gun at her, his mocking laughter ringing through her ears. She was terrified, but she couldn't stop singing. Her song grew darker, filled with her pain and fear, and the judges became concerned. But she kept singing her song.  
  
Verbum sapienti (eo plus cupiunt)  
  
Verbum sapienti  
  
Quo plus habent} eo plus cupiunt  
  
Verbum sapienti  
  
Quo plus habent} eo plus cupiunt  
  
Chloe sang and watched as Moore fired his gun. She watched frozen as the bullet ripped through Brady's body. Blood. His lifeless body sank to the ground.  
  
Blood. Pain. Anger. Death.  
  
The judges were now out of their minds with terror. Chloe made no effort to stop the power surging through her. Moore stood in front of her, taunting her with a loaded gun aimed at her heart. A dark smile graced her lips as the ancient power welled up inside her.  
  
Post nubila, Phoebus  
  
Post nubila, Phoebus  
  
Post nubila, Phoebus  
  
Iternum  
  
Iternum  
  
The power flew from her mouth, obliterating everything in sight. Moore was bodily picked up and hurled into the far wall. Chloe laughed to see his bloody body slowly slide down the wall. Her enemy defeated, she tried to stop her song only to find that it was now out of control. She grew frightened as the power continued to build, finally to erupt outwards. The blast ripped through the terrified judges with the force of a small bomb. Blood flew everywhere and Chloe looked down to find herself covered in it, head to toe.  
  
Guilt, remorse and fear overwhelmed her. She was terrified of the power that had been inside her, and she vowed to never let it loose again. She buried the power, and the emotions that unleash it deep down inside.  
  
She finished her song emotionlessly on the empty bloody stage.  
  
  
  
Ariel woke from her dream and got up from her bed. She walked out of her room and down the hall, pulled by the force that had brought her to Salem. She knew that it was nearby, she could feel it. That familiar presence.  
  
Chloe stirred from her sleep and noiselessly got up from her position beside Brady. She moved down the hall, answering the call she felt in her soul. There was a powerful pull on her spirit, one that could not be ignored. It was close.  
  
Ariel rounded the corner and came face to face with Chloe. She saw Chloe's deep blue eyes and was immediately reminded of another pair of eyes from long ago.  
  
Chloe looked at the redheaded girl in front of her. She stared into the green eyes and flashed to another time, another life. When she had been someone else.  
  
Images and visions flashed in their minds until finally, they both wordlessly collapsed to the ground.  
  
  
  
Cursum Perficio By Enya. Her CD Watermark is pretty much the soundtrack for this fic. You should either buy it, or download some of these songs. Especially this one, because this song represents the song of the Banshee in my fic. You really have to hear it to get what I'm trying to write. 


	23. Chapter Twenty-three

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty-Three  
  
Dr. Stevens finished her nightly rounds of the Psychiatric wards with Ariel's room. She stepped inside the silent redhead's room. "Hello Ariel, how are you…Ariel?" Her voice rose in alarm as she found the patient bed empty. The girl was nowhere to be found in the small sanitary room. She checked the thick glass windows to find them securely locked. {How did she get out? The door was locked when I came in.} She pondered with a slight tilt of her head. She quickly flew into action. {Never mind that, where is she now?}  
  
She checked up and down the hospital corridor and some of the nearby patient rooms. There was no sign of the young woman. She grabbed a nearby desk phone and dialed Marlena's cell phone. {I hate bothering Dr. Evans with everything she's going through right now, but as head of the psych wards, it's her job to handle the situation. She has to know what is happening.}  
  
  
  
The shrill ringing of her cell phone immediately woke Marlena from a light, restless sleep. She glanced around the waiting room at the other sleeping couples. They had all been so worried about J.T. that it was a wonder they were able to sleep at all. Marlena shook herself out of her reverie and answered her phone.  
  
"Dr. Evans." She stated mechanically, hiding her emotional turmoil beneath a cool, professional façade. She listened to the concerned voice on the other end.  
  
"Okay, contact Security, but tell them to be calm and gentle with the girl. Ariel is more than likely confused and scared. I will be right there." She clicked her phone shut and stood up from the cramped bench where she and John had lain.  
  
John murmured groggily as he sat up on the hard bench. "Anything wrong?" he yawned, slowly becoming more alert.  
  
Marlena kissed his scruffy cheek. "Nothing for you to worry about. One of my patients isn't in her room. I'll be back soon." She kissed her sleepy husband tenderly on the lips and left to find her errant patient.  
  
  
  
Brady yawned and stretched fully on the waiting room bench. He looked around him groggily, shaking off the remaining sleep haze. "Chloe?" He became more alert when he found that she was nowhere in sight. {Probably using the restroom.} He surmised. Brady was then reminded of his own urgent need and got up to answer nature's call.  
  
After leaving the men's room, Brady was suddenly struck by the urge to check on his little brother. {Little brother. That's certainly going to take some getting used to.} He turned around the corner toward the room where little J.T. was valiantly fighting for his life against a severe FAS complication. Brady took three steps and froze, not believing his tired eyes. There, on the shiny hospital floor in front of him, lay Chloe and another girl. Both were motionless, unconscious.  
  
"Chloe!" He ran to the prone brunette on the floor. He felt for a pulse and found it to be strong and steady. {What's wrong with her? Did she pass out? If so, why?} He turned his puzzled eyes to the other girl with the mass of bright red hair. He looked at the still girl and was hit by a strange sense of familiarity. He shook off his wandering thoughts and turned his attention back to Chloe. He could find no sign of injury, no reason for her current state.  
  
Brady heard quick footsteps behind him. "There she is…Brady! What happened?" Marlena's concerned voice rang out in the hall. She ran up to Chloe and looked her over, and Ariel as well. Her brows came together in a sharp frown when she too failed to find a reason for the girls' collapse.  
  
"I don't know. I just now found them like this. I haven't a clue how long they've been out." He looked again at the mysterious girl with the vibrant hair. "Who's she?" He asked, motioning to Ariel.  
  
Marlena looked up from taking Ariel's pulse. "Oh, she's a new patient of mine. We call her Ariel."  
  
Brady looked at the two unconscious girls before him and suddenly it clicked. He closely studied the girls' faces as they lay side by side. "This Ariel, looks a lot like Chloe."  
  
Marlena looked up. "Hmm?" She looked back at the two girls and frowned slightly. She did remember that Ariel had reminded her of someone. "How do you mean?"  
  
"Look at them. True, they have different hair color, different skin tones…"  
  
"Different color eyes." Marlena pointed out, still not quite seeing the resemblance.  
  
"Whatever. But everything else is the same. Everything. Same build, same features. Look at their mouths, and their noses; exactly the same. Even their eyelids are shaped the same. I don't know what it means, if anything. I just noticed it, that's all."  
  
Marlena nodded slightly in thought. It was possible, and it would explain why the girl seemed so familiar to her. She shook her head slightly, her unruly blond hair falling around her face. Anyway, that was a mystery for another time. Right now, she had to find out what was wrong with the two girls and figure out how to help them.  
  
Brady cradled the unconscious Chloe in his arms and softly called her name. "Chloe, can you hear me? C'mon, wake up for me."  
  
Beneath her closed eyelids, her eyes fluttered rapidly and her breathing quickened. She murmured softly and only Brady heard what she said. "Sheamus," she moaned, her voice full of anguish and despair.  
  
Ice crawled through his veins when he heard that name. He had known that name, a long time ago. Blurred visions and images whirled through his mind without meaning. He saw a beautiful girl with brilliant red hair and flashing green eyes. Why did that name affect him so? What was he trying to remember?  
  
  
  
Colin rolled his tense shoulders as he exited J.T.'s room. They had managed to stabilize the young boy, but he still needed constant monitoring. His feet dragged along the linoleum floor; his heart was so heavy. It was always hard, operating on small children. But now, it was even worse, because that young child was a Brady, if in name only, a member of his family.  
  
He closed his eyes and tried to block the haunting images. But it was no use. He still saw it. He would always see it. Her tiny grave, her simple tombstone. Brianna Cassidy. He saw her tiny, charred body, so badly burned that only her bright red hair could identify her.  
  
One day. He had been late in arriving home by one day. If he had gotten there sooner, perhaps he could have… He was only fifteen, but maybe he could have saved her at least. Or died trying.  
  
But he didn't save her. His little niece was dead, and he was alive. And he would always be consumed by guilt. And now especially, that guilt ate at him, pushing him to insane limits to try to save young John Thomas.  
  
He yawned deeply and headed to get some coffee. The stronger, the better. However, as he rounded the next corner, he found that caffeine wasn't needed to fight his weariness; panicked concern worked just fine.  
  
"Chloe!" He yelled as he raced over to where she lay in Brady's arms. He checked her vitals quickly. "What happened?" He barked with the urgency of an emergency doctor handling a severe injury.  
  
"We don't know. We just found them like this." Marlena calmly replied. She noticed Colin's uncharacteristic anxiety. Normally, the young doctor was calm and self-assured. What was different now?  
  
Colin then noticed the young redhead. "Who's this?" He asked as he gave her a passing glance. Marlena explained as Colin again tried to revive Chloe. He put all thoughts of the young woman behind him and focused solely on Chloe. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to find the cause of her unconsciousness. {God, let her be okay.} He couldn't lose her too. He was about to order a battery of tests when Chloe moaned softly and fluttered open her eyes.  
  
"Chloe!" All three voices exclaimed with relief. Colin moved in closer to her and checked her eyes. "How do you feel? Do you hurt anywhere?" Colin asked her while resisting the urge to gather her in his arms.  
  
"Um, I feel a little dazed, but I don't hurt. What happened?"  
  
"That's what we're trying to figure out. What do you remember, Chloe?" Marlena asked gently.  
  
Chloe bit her lip while she racked her recent memory. "The last thing I remember is falling asleep with Brady in the waiting room. How did I get here? Who is that?" Chloe asked, looking at the unconscious girl in Marlena's arms.  
  
Now that Chloe appeared to be okay, Colin permitted himself a second look at Marlena's mysterious patient. {Wow, look at that hair.} He smiled slightly to himself, remembering Brianna's thick mass of red curls. He pulled Ariel's eyelids back and shone a small flashlight into her eyes. He saw her green eyes and jumped back with a gasp. Those eyes.  
  
"Colin? What is it?" Marlena asked, concerned by his extreme reaction. She noticed his suddenly pale skin and wide eyes.  
  
Colin was about to answer, when the monitor alarms in J.T.'s rooms suddenly went off. He flew down the hall toward the boy's room, all thoughts of the young woman fleeing his mind.  
  
Marlena put Ariel back in her room with the help of some nurses. Ariel had come out of her unconscious state and was now deeply asleep. Marlena then left to join her worried family and friends.  
  
Amazing what can change in a matter of minutes. When she left the waiting room to find Ariel, everyone had been asleep, casting off their worries for a few moments of peace. Now, she reentered the room to find everyone awake in a state of barely controlled chaos. Tension hung in the air, a tangible presence.  
  
Her eyes immediately rested on her dear friends Bo and Hope. Bo cradled his wife in his arms and tried to offer words of comfort. "He will survive this." He murmured softly as he rubbed her back.  
  
Marlena noticed her daughter Belle with Shawn. Belle tried to encourage Shawn but his face was a cold mask of stone. He simply stared out in front of him, refusing to be comforted until he knew that his little brother would be okay.  
  
Then her eyes drifted to a bench where Brady held Chloe. Marlena knew that he was ignoring his own worries and concern for J.T. and focusing instead on comforting Chloe.  
  
Her husband frantically paced a corner, his face cold and intense. Marlena knew that look well. It was the look of the hidden mercenary that John always sought to control. She went to John to try to soothe him. She gently wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.  
  
John sighed quietly. "I can't lose him now. I never even got the chance to know him."  
  
"I know." Marlena murmured quietly.  
  
Minutes passed and Hope shivered in her husband's strong arms. Once again she felt a gathering storm, the approaching doom. She tried to keep hope, and faith. But somehow deep inside she knew.  
  
Colin and Craig finally entered the tense waiting room wearing stony expressions. Hope felt her heart stop at the looks on their faces. Craig opened his mouth to speak, but Colin interrupted.  
  
"No, let me. They should hear it from family." He slowly positioned himself in front of Bo and Hope. His mind flashed and once again he saw Brianna's grave. Guilt. He turned to Hope.  
  
"I'm sorry. We did everything we could. John Thomas didn't make it." 


	24. Chapter Twenty-four

Banshee Song  
  
Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four  
  
The packed waiting room was deathly still as the stunned occupants struggled to absorb the painful news. Hope simply stared at Colin dumbfounded. "no" she moaned softly in denial. She did not hear him correctly; there had to be some mistake.  
  
Colin looked mournfully at her, empathy reflected in his warm brown eyes. "I'm sorry Hope. J.T. is dead."  
  
"No." she cried as tears filled her eyes. "NO!" she let out a heartrending cry and collapsed to her knees. Bo quickly caught her and held her in his arms. He held her tightly as she shook from the force of her violent sobs. She felt her heart break, felt her son being ripped from her arms. She catapulted from her husband's arms and vaulted toward her son's room. "I've got to see him. I've got to hold him." She cried as she entered the room where doctors were finishing with J.T. She stopped still at the sight of her little boy sliced open from his failed surgery. Bo quickly pulled her out of the room, away from the horrible sight, and held her firmly against his chest.  
  
The quiet waiting room was slowly coming to life as it broke out into muffled sobs and shocked murmurs. Colin pulled himself out his self- imposed judgment of guilt and again hid his pain under his duties. "I'll call Uncle Shawn and Aunt Caroline. And the Hortons as well."  
  
Bo looked at him thankfully. He couldn't focus beyond the trembling woman in his arms. "Thanks, Colin."  
  
Colin walked away, shaking his head. {Don't thank me. I failed. Again.}  
  
  
  
Chloe racked her stunned mind for something to say to comfort Brady. She still couldn't understand what had just occurred. {How did this happen?} She wordlessly wrapped her arms around Brady.  
  
His entire body was stiff and tense. He simply stared ahead of him. He had just found out about his baby brother, and now, just like that, he was gone. He had never gotten the chance to know him, to love him. He sat in shock; he didn't know how he was supposed to feel.  
  
Minutes passed as the people in the small room dealt with their strong feelings of pain and grief. Chloe looked over to where Belle was uselessly trying to comfort Shawn. Shawn was a sickly gray, and his eyes cloudy and cold. Chloe remembered with a sharp pang of sadness, their earlier conversation. Mere hours ago, Shawn had told her about J.T.; how important that kid was to him. And now he was gone, the most important thing in Shawn's life was gone.  
  
Shawn stood quickly, his fast actions throwing off Belle's arms. He stiffly walked out of the room. Belle moved to follow, but Chloe stopped her. "No, Belle. Let me." She looked back at the motionless Brady. "I think Brady needs you."  
  
Belle nodded and wrapped her arms around Brady's still body. She released her pent-up emotions and cried her pain into his chest. He softened with his Belle's tears and turned his attention to comforting his little sister, once again pushing aside his own pain.  
  
  
  
Chloe found Shawn out on the balcony staring out on the lights of the city below. He gripped the iron rails, his knuckles white with the force. She could see the bitter fury radiating off of him. The fury, and the grief. She stood watching him, saying nothing.  
  
Happy little visions of J.T. bounced in Shawn's head, mocking him with cruel memories. He remembered the first time he saw little J.T., the first time he held him, the first time the little boy smiled at him in recognition. He remembered plans and dreams for the future with his little buddy, visions of J.T. growing up, becoming his own man.  
  
And now he was dead, his future gone with him.  
  
Chloe silently watched him, waiting for him to release what he was holding inside. She was soon rewarded for her patience.  
  
"why?" he croaked in a small voice. "DAMMIT! WHY?!" he threw his head back and screamed at heaven. Chloe's heart twisted at the raw, naked pain displayed on his face. He savagely kicked over a wooden bench, trying to release his anger at the unfair turn of events.  
  
He laughed mirthlessly and again turned his attention to the One above. "What, our family hasn't suffered enough pain and sorrow?!" he cried sarcastically. "You have to take away an innocent child – the most important part of our family?!" "ANSWER ME! WHY?!" his anguished cry echoed in the night sky.  
  
He dropped to his knees, his anger momentarily extinguished only to be replaced by the ever-present grief and despair. "why" he cried out in a choking sob, tears running down his cheeks. "why did he have to die?"  
  
Chloe wrapped her arms around her recently 'adopted' brother and held him. She held him and rocked him while he cried his tears of bitter grief and heartbreak. She cried her own tears, feeling her friend's pain and despair.  
  
  
  
Ariel stood in her room and looked out the window of her heavy, metal door. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. There was so much pain, and sadness. She could feel it. Death had come for the little one. They were in pain, the people in the waiting room. She could feel their pain, it called out to her, reminded her.  
  
{Her da held her tightly as they look over her mum's grave. She has gone to Heaven. Everyone she loves has gone to heaven. Her grandparents-wide open eyes staring out from still bodies- her aunt-blood streaming from her body bathing Brianna in a baptism of blood. They are in Heaven. Where is her da? And her uncle Colin?}  
  
She pounded mournfully on the thick glass. Pain. Such deep, familiar pain. And sorrow. They are crying, hearts spit open, sorrow, despair, anguish pouring out and onto Brianna, the girl called Ariel.  
  
Ariel could take no more; their pain was too strong, overwhelming her gentle spirit. Her bright green eyes rolled back into her head, the whites flashing brightly. She reached down into her soul and pulled forth her song. Song of sorrow, song of despair. Song of death.  
  
  
  
The haunting melody carried through the halls of the hospital into the waiting room. Caroline smiled slightly through her tears. "Looks like the wind has started up again. Whoa, listen to it howl." The others murmured their agreements.  
  
But Colin and the elder Shawn Brady reacted differently. They heard the wind for what it really was; there was no mistaking that song, the familiar pain that accompanied it. Shawn pulled Colin aside. "Ye know what this is, don't ye?" Colin simply nodded. Shawn continued thoughtfully. "This has been goin' on for awhile now. It has to be…Where's Chloe?"  
  
Colin looked around the crowded waiting room full of mourners. "I don't know. We better find her before someone else does."  
  
Shawn agreed. "And before that someone realizes what Chloe is."  
  
  
  
Chloe continued to hold Shawn until he slowly pulled away. He moved to stand against the railing, once again looking down at the city. "Boy, listen to that wind. Strange, though, I can hear it, but I can't feel it." He looked back at Chloe. "Chloe?" he questioned.  
  
She stood stiffly on the balcony, her eyes rolled back into her head. Once again, she felt a call from within, a summons she was forced to obey. She cried helpless tears. She could feel their pain, it was so strong she couldn't shut it out. It grew until it consumed her, becoming her, turning her into a vessel of pain.  
  
She opened her mouth and sang a strange song full of sadness and grief. The notes spilled from her mouth and washed over Shawn and in his mind he was transported back to another time, when he had been someone else.  
  
  
  
{Sean Cassidy anxiously stood in the waiting room with his wife Elizabeth. He nearly ran to the smiling man who had just come from the delivery room. "Sheamus!" he called out to his brother-in-law. "How is she?"  
  
Sheamus smiled that goofy grin of his. "Rhianna is doing just fine, and so is yer brand new nephew! Come and see our little Sean Brady!"  
  
Sean entered the delivery room and looked tenderly down at his twin sister, exhausted from hours of painful labor, and the sleeping babe she held in her arms.  
  
"Sean!" she exclaimed softly at her brother. "Come and see! Would ye like to hold him?"  
  
Sean held the tiny, wriggling red-faced baby in his arms and felt a peace like he had never known wash over his soul.}  
  
Shawn blinked rapidly. {What the hell was that?} The memories overwhelmed his mind and he slowly sank to the floor, unconscious.  
  
Chloe finished her song, her waning strength flowing out of her. She swayed and joined Shawn on the balcony floor. 


	25. Chapter Twenty-five

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty-Five  
  
"It never gets any easier, does it?"  
  
"No, Uncle Shawn. It does not."  
  
The two men stood side-by-side and stared silently at the tiny mahogany coffin. They ignored the bitterly cold rain that assaulted their faces and ran off of them in sheets. Colin closed his eyes to shut out the hateful sight of the miniature coffin being lowered into the ground. Unbidden memories haunted him. Brianna. The stench of failure assailed his nostrils, reminding him, taunting him.  
  
They stood and watched stoically as the first clumps of dirt hit the coffin with a cold finality. John Thomas was dead. The burial concluded quietly, punctuated by Hope's muffled sobs. Colin looked around him at the faces gathered there. Bo stood silently supporting his sobbing wife; his own grief painfully visible in his dark eyes. A little off to the side stood John and Marlena. John's still face portrayed none of the anguish he felt inside. However his tense, stiff posture spoke volumes about the emotions that he kept tightly reined in.  
  
Colin's gaze fell on the young couple, Shawn and Belle, and beside them, Brady and Chloe. Their faces easily reflected their pain, their disbelief. Colin briefly remembered finding Chloe and Shawn's unconscious bodies on the hospital balcony. Had it been three days ago? My, how the time does fly. Chloe and Shawn regained consciousness a short time after he and Uncle Shawn found them. However, they didn't know what had happened or why they had collapsed. Colin mentally added the incident to his long list of mysteries.  
  
Colin breathed a heavy sigh. Chloe. He had hoped to protect her by coming here, but already she had suffered so much. Could he help her, when he had failed with so many others? His parents, Brianna, John Thomas. There was blood on his hands and not all the oceans in the world would make them clean again. His cousin Bo was right not to trust him; he didn't trust himself.  
  
Colin watched as Chloe tried vainly to comfort her love Brady. Her sadness was clearly evident in her large blue eyes. A small, wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She was so like her big sister, so like Brianna. Chloe's eyes held the story of her soul, displaying the depths of the emotions that she felt. Just like Brianna.  
  
Brianna had never needed to talk to express herself; it was plainly written in her large green eyes. Colin flashed briefly to the young girl who had lain beside Chloe on the hospital floor. Ariel, Marlena had called her. She had had those same eyes. And the same mass of red curls. But it was sheer coincidence. His Brianna was gone, buried. And no amount of wishing would bring her back.  
  
The last of the rich soil covered the grave and the priest concluded the ceremony. The somber mourners said their goodbyes and turned and quietly left the cemetery where a tiny tombstone marked the final resting place of John Thomas.  
  
"Hope, honey, how are you holding up?"  
  
Hope gave a small, sad smile. "I don't know, Gran. I must still be in shock. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. As bad as this is, I keep thinking that it's going to get worse."  
  
They were at the Horton home, along with their closest friends and family who had attended the funeral. Caroline and Maggie had brought food over, knowing that no one would feel like cooking.  
  
Alice looked on her beloved granddaughter with concerned eyes. Jennifer was also concerned by her cousin's cryptic response. "Worse? I don't see how it can possibly get worse. Hope, you lost your baby boy. A boy you loved more than life itself." She stated tenderly.  
  
Hope sighed, her heart heavy in her chest. The impending doom that she had felt in the hospital had not let up since the untimely death of her son. It was still there, an oppressively heavy force weighing down her gentle spirit. "I don't know. But my life experience has taught me that if it can get worse, it will." She answered bitterly.  
  
Colin bumped into Marlena just as she was finishing a serious conversation on her cell phone. "Is anything wrong?" he inquired.  
  
Marlena smiled. "Just the usual problems with Ariel. You remember meeting my newest patient? Of course, she was unconscious at the time."  
  
"Ariel, ah yes of course. That bright red hair is quite unforgettable." Colin smiled. "So there are problems with Ariel?"  
  
"Usually, she spends her time in a kind of catatonic state, completely cut off from the outside world. But then there are times when she's awake, where she seems almost lucid, yet she's highly agitated. She has been like this for the last few days and I'm not sure how to help her. I'm almost positive that she suffers from PTSD." She paused as a thought occurred to her.  
  
"She has these strange markings on her arms and wrists. They appear to be some sort of Celtic symbol. Maybe you could take a look at them."  
  
"I would be glad to. But I must say, Celtic lore and symbols aren't really my forte." Colin grinned. Marlena gave him her thanks and then excused herself to find her husband.  
  
"There you are." Marlena said softly. John looked up from the photo album that he was holding. The book was filled with pictures of his son, J.T. Bo had given him the album as a peace offering, and also so that he could have a chance to know his son.  
  
Marlena looked over his shoulder at the many pictures. There was J.T. in the sandbox, J.T. with his favorite blue ball, J.T. naked in the tub, J.T. asleep in his crib. "He was a beautiful boy."  
  
"Yes, he certainly was." John replied softly.  
  
"And this is how we should remember him. Don't think about how you were robbed of the chance to raise him, to know him. Be grateful that you helped bring him into this world. Be grateful that he was a part of your life, if only for an instant."  
  
"Powerful words" came a voice behind her. Marlena and John turned to see Bo and Hope coming up to them. The four friends stood silently, no words were needed to convey the depth of their shared grief and sadness. They all had lost that little boy.  
  
Their silent moment was interrupted when Craig came up to them. "I'm glad you're all here." He said quietly. "There's something I need to tell you." 


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty-Six  
  
"So if we leave Friday afternoon, around two, then that should get us there early Saturday morning. That will give us all day to play around in New York, and still leave you plenty of time to prepare for your audition on Sunday. Any ideas of what you'd like to do in New York?"  
  
"Hmmmm. The Met, obviously. We have to check it out. Oooh, we gotta go to the Museum of Modern Art. And, I don't know, just spending the day walking around with you on my arm sounds good enough."  
  
The two young lovers were reclined on the leather sofa in Brady's apartment. They had moved it so it sat facing out the large loft windows. They watched the steady rain drizzle and run down the windowpanes, painting the world outside a dreary gray. It was actually rather cozy, as they sat closely, snuggled under a warm blanket drinking hot cocoa. It was just what they needed after that morning.  
  
Brady had buried his little brother that morning. He was still trying to figure out how he should be feeling. J.T. had always been his young cousin, someone he had barely taken notice of. Now he was his baby brother, and he was dead.  
  
Chloe laid her head on Brady's shoulder, sympathizing with him. The town of Salem was still reeling from the loss of that sweet, innocent little boy. You didn't have to be physically connected to him to feel grief; he had been a part of everyone. His brave struggle through life had touched many, taught them valuable lessons about the beauty of life. And now his struggle was ended. He was at rest.  
  
Chloe briefly thought about Shawn, how was he handling his little brother's death. She remembered his pale, stricken face at the funeral. She had heard his soft, strangled cry as the dirt was poured on the coffin. She wondered how he had even found the strength to endure the ceremony and the gathering afterwards.  
  
Snippets of their previous conversations echoed in her head. Shawn was always talking about his little brother, how important he was to him, how excited he was about the kid's future.  
  
Her heart went out to her friend, and even as she sat thinking about him a vague memory danced at the corners of her mind. She saw strange dreams and half-remembered visions, all relating to Shawn. She still didn't know why she and Shawn had passed out in the hospital, but so many bizarre things had happened to her lately that this was just the tip of the iceberg.  
  
With a deep sigh, she pushed away the sadness of the present and instead focused hopeful eyes on the future. This weekend, to be exact. This weekend would decide her future, whether she goes to Julliard, or somewhere else.  
  
She also hoped this weekend would pull her and Brady closer together. She was still concerned about their relationship, about their future. On top of all her previous worries, lately she had come to wonder why they hadn't yet made love. Brady hadn't even made a move in that direction. Chloe knew that they had been taking things slow because of her ordeal with Dr. Moore, but surely now, months later, he would at least have made a move. At least hinted that he was interested in her that way. But every time the two began to get close, began to express themselves physically, Brady pulled back, pulled away.  
  
{Maybe this weekend, we can move to the next level.} She thought, excitedly making plans for their trip together. Both of them, alone, in a nice hotel room. Her full lips curled into a sly smile and her cheeks blushed as she imagined being close to Brady; touching him, loving him.  
  
Brady observed her rosy cheeks. "Chloe, what are you thinking about?" Her blush deepened as she broke out of her daydream.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
  
  
They waited somberly in his office at the hospital. Not a word was uttered by the four friends as they sat anxiously awaiting his arrival. Finally, his office door opened and Craig entered carrying a file under one arm. He sat down slowly at his cherry oak desk and gazed at each of the four in front of him. His eyes finally rested on Hope's.  
  
"First of all, I want to again express my deepest condolences on the loss of John Thomas. I am so sorry for the pain that you have experienced." Craig paused slightly. "And I am sorry that I must bring even more pain to you and your family."  
  
Their heartbeats quickened at his ominous statement while Hope felt suffocated by the now familiar sense of doom that surrounded her. They waited silently and with stone faces for Craig to continue.  
  
He opened the manila folder on his desk and took out several papers. "As you know, there had been some question regarding J.T.'s paternity. Whenever this occurs, it is our policy to again test the paternity to ensure that the results are accurate. We have run the test five times using different samples and each time we get the same answer." Craig again paused as he tried form his next sentence. "I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it."  
  
John looked at Craig with confusion clearly written on his face. "It's okay Craig. We already know that I am J.T.'s father."  
  
"That's just it, John. According to my tests, you aren't."  
  
"Then your tests are wrong." John replied angrily. "Both Bo and I had tests done, and they both say that I am his father."  
  
Craig calmly looked at John. "I can't explain those earlier tests. But I can tell you that I ran these tests myself; here, look for yourself." He handed the tests over to John and Bo who studied them intently.  
  
"This doesn't make sense." Bo said softly, struggling uselessly to comprehend this recent turn of events. "I just had a test done. It was a 99% match."  
  
"That right there tells me that something was off with the test. Rarely does a test result in that high of a percentage match. It's very possible that someone tampered with the results. It has been known to happen. Anyone with access into the computer systems could conceivably change the results."  
  
"Anyone like.Lexie?" John surmised. "But why? Why would she want us to believe that J.T. was mine?" he questioned softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
"Because they don't want us to know who his real father was." Bo answered with a scratch of his bearded chin.  
  
"Stefano. Has to be. He's the only other possibility." John stated quietly.  
  
Hope paled visibly and shuddered at the thought of making love, no, having sex with that man. Bo lightly grasped her shoulder and massaged the tense muscles.  
  
Craig looked at John, momentary confusion settling over his features. "Before you get into who the father is, there is something else you need to know. When our first test resulted in a negative match, we ran a test between Hope and J.T. in order to establish a baseline reading. Here are the results of those tests. As you can see, they also came up negative." Craig paused slightly, inhaling a deep breath. "I don't know who that little boy was, but he was not your son."  
  
Hope sat in her chair, frozen in shock. Her hot blood roared in her ears as she struggled to comprehend the words she had just heard. J.T. wasn't her son? How was that possible? And yet.  
  
Bo erupted from his chair, barely controlling his heated temper. "Not her son?! That proves that your tests are wrong! Hope gave birth to him, I was there. I watched him being born, saw his little parts as one by one they came into view. And now you're telling me that that didn't happen?"  
  
Craig put his arms up in peace and tried to calm the angry man in front of him. "Hope did give birth to a little boy, no one is questioning that." He took another deep breath and prepared to reveal even more shocking news. "It has since come to my attention that there was a security breach in the nursery on the night that J.T. was born. It appears that two babies born that night may have been switched."  
  
"Switched? What do you mean?" John asked, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Was it possible that his son was actually alive, living with someone else?  
  
Bo stood still, his back completely straight. Vague memories played in his mind. There had been talk of a switch, he had even investigated it, but had come up with nothing.  
  
Craig continued. "Hope gave birth to a little boy, and that boy was taken to the nursery to be cleaned and tagged. That boy was somehow confused or mixed with another boy who was then brought back to you as your son. It is, unfortunately, a common occurrence. We hear of cases where people need family donors due to medical emergencies, only to find that they aren't even related to their own family."  
  
Hope's mind continued to swirl. This is what she had feared. The approaching storm had finally broken on her. She was beyond shock, beyond surprise. Somehow she had always known that the sweet little boy that she had raised wasn't hers. She spoke up, her voice a soft whisper.  
  
"Do you remember, Bo? When they first brought J.T. in from the nursery and placed him in my arms? Do you remember what I said?" Hope asked, her eyes glossy from memories.  
  
"They placed this little, red-faced boy in my arms. I looked down on his sweet face and I said, 'This isn't my son.' Do you remember? Even then I knew he wasn't mine, but I wanted to keep him. He felt so right in my arms. He was sick and weak, and I wanted to take care of him. So I ignored what my maternal instincts were telling me, and I took that boy home with me." Hope continued as small tears trickled out of her eyes.  
  
Bo looked down on his silently weeping wife. All the pieces were coming together. J.T. had had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, a disease caused by drinking during pregnancy. Yet Hope had spent most of that time trapped in a castle in Europe. He remembered the security breach that night, and remembered Hope's upset insistence that this boy was not her son. But the question remained. "If J.T. wasn't her son, then who is, and where is he now?" he asked aloud in the quiet room.  
  
"Well, the first step is to pull the records of the other births that night." Craig answered.  
  
"No need." John interrupted, a dark cast to his face. He stared intensely into the air before him, his mind running through the clues. "We already know who her son is, and where." He stated simply.  
  
He looked around at his friends and wife. He spoke his thoughts aloud but quietly. "We're forgetting that Stefano and Lexie have been behind everything, from the very beginning. They orchestrated the conception of Hope's child, altered the tests to prove that J.T. was ours. Think about it, who else but Lexie would have the means and the motive to switch two babies here in the hospital department where she worked? And don't forget the Reibers, who once took J.T. believing him to be Glen and Marlo's child, the child that Lexie adopted, the child that was born the same night as J.T."  
  
"Isaac." Hope breathed. She recognized the truth that she had always known. "Isaac is my son." Finally, it all made sense. Her dreams, the longing she felt when ever she held him in her arms, Lexie. "That was the secret she was hiding." She exclaimed softly.  
  
John nodded simply. "Yes."  
  
"But why?" Marlena asked. "Why go through all of this effort, what was behind her actions?"  
  
John turned to his wife to answer, systematically running through the facts in his head. "In a word, Stefano. He arranged for Hope to conceive a child, so he could raise it as his own. I don't yet know why. It doesn't make sense unless the child was in fact his. In any case, he wants to raise the child as a Dimera. Enter Lexie and her desire to have a child. He convinces her to adopt Marlo's child. She agrees, but she also knows that Marlo is an alcoholic and that there is a good chance that the child would have FAS. She has waited so long to have a child that she can't bear the thought of losing him to the disease. So he convinces her to switch the babies the night of their birth. He would then have control of Hope's child. While we bury J.T. believing him to be ours, never knowing the truth." John finished quietly as the enormity of Stefano's cruelty sunk in.  
  
Hope sank into her chair, despair washing over her. "He stole my baby." she cried with maternal anguish. "I just lost J.T., I can't lose another son."  
  
Bo looked down at his silently weeping wife. "You won't." He stated firmly. "We will get him back." 


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty-Seven  
  
Early the next morning,  
  
Abraham Carver adjusted his tie one last time and headed down the grand curving staircase of his grand house. Oh, how he hated this house. Because it was HIS house. Stefano Dimera's.  
  
He had very reluctantly agreed to move here to ease his wife Lexie's fears for their son's safety. There, in the protection of her father's house, under the watchful eye of her father's servants, would her son be safe, she had argued. And against all better judgment, he had consented.  
  
Many, many months later, he was still no more comfortable in this house than he was the day they moved into the palatial mansion. As a result, he used any excuse he could find to stay away from the house. He worked six days a week, leaving early each morning and arriving home late each night.  
  
But as bad as it had been before, it was worse now. The king had returned home to his castle. Stefano Dimera. The most hated name Abe had ever heard. And he just happened to be his beloved wife's much-adored father.  
  
For that reason alone, he tolerated Stefano, tolerated his presence, tolerated this house. But as he reached the last step of the winding mahogany staircase, he wondered just how much longer would he be able to do so.  
  
He stopped dead at the entrance to the informal dining room where his wife was breakfasting with her father. Abe hid a grimace at the sight of the harried servant who waited on them. {Can they not eat one meal without a servant in attendance?} He shook his head and once again wondered about the many changes in his wife of late.  
  
Gradually over the course of the last few years, Lexie had been changing, becoming a different person. Abe looked at the polished, immaculately dressed woman before him and realized that he did not even recognize his own wife anymore. Once she had been a kind, loving woman with a large generous heart. Now she was cold, calculating, and perfectly willing to do anything and everything to get what she wanted.  
  
In short, just like her father.  
  
Abe had ignored it for so long. The whispered conversations with Stefano's henchmen, her sudden, bizarre friendship with Barb and Glen Reiber, her open hostility toward Hope Brady, a woman who had once been her dearest friend. Lexie had once been the picture of peace and tranquility, now she radiated nervous anxiety. Lexie had also once been humble, down to earth. Now Abe watched his wife drink fine imported tea from antique china with the proud, regal air of a queen as servants ran to and fro to carry out her orders.  
  
Yes, many changes had taken place in his lovely wife. But the most disturbing of all was her attitude toward her son. For many years, Abe and Lexie were childless. And it had absolutely devastated her. There was nothing on earth that she wanted more than a child of her own. But that wasn't possible.  
  
Then suddenly, miraculously, they had been gifted with the opportunity to adopt the child of a poor alcoholic woman and all of Lexie's dreams were finally coming true. The day that they took little Isaac home was the happiest, most joyous day of their lives. No one doted on that child more than Lexie. He was her world, her everything.  
  
Now, however, servants tended to the child more than Lexie did. She always seemed to be too busy with secret schemes and suspicious meetings to spend time with the young boy. Like everything else though, Abe dismissed it. Isaac was now firmly in his 'terrible twos', and certainly a handful. Of course she needed help in dealing with him.  
  
But the final straw had been yesterday when Abe overheard Isaac call Ilyanna "mommy". {Lexie, what is happening to you?} He questioned in his soul. He shook aside his inner doubts and prepared himself to greet his 'family'.  
  
He pasted an insincere smile on his face and greeted them cheerfully. "Good morning, sweetie. Stefano." He leaned down to give his wife a quick kiss on the cheek that Lexie regally offered him.  
  
"Good morning, Abe. Will you be joining us for breakfast this morning?" she inquired with saccharine sweetness.  
  
"Not today. I'm afraid I have to get an early start at the office." Abe grimaced at his wife's childlike pout.  
  
"Abe, you're always working! Surely it is not THAT important for you to go in so early. I mean what are all your subordinates for but to ease your workload? Don't you think he's working too hard, Father?" Lexie turned to Stefano.  
  
Stefano gifted his son-in-law with a gracious smile. "On the contrary, Alexandra, I admire Commander Carver's work ethic. Would that everyone worked as hard. The world would be a better place." He finished his speech with a small smirk.  
  
Abe simply ignored his father-in-law. He neither needed nor wanted Stefano's good opinion. He was about to bid his wife goodbye when the doorbell rang.  
  
"Ilyanna!!" Lexie's screeching voice roared through the house.  
  
"I'LL get it." Abe grimaced through clenched teeth.  
  
He opened the heavy oak door and was surprised to see his good friend and coworker Roman Brady on his front porch.  
  
"Roman!" he greeted him cheerfully. "What brings you by here, so early in the morning?"  
  
Roman shifted uneasily on his feet. "Good morning, Abe. I really don't want to be here right now, but I thought it would be better if it came from a friend."  
  
"What are you talking about Roman?" Abe asked as a curious Lexie sidled up beside him.  
  
Roman set his jaw and with a heavy sigh, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a manila envelope. "I'm so sorry to have to do this to you Abe, but it's my duty. This is a court order demanding that Isaac Carver be tested to see if he is Hope Brady's child."  
  
"WHAT?!" Abe yelled in confusion. What does Hope have to do with their son? Neither Abe nor Roman noticed the sudden shocked rigidity in Lexie's posture.  
  
Roman sympathized with his friend and attempted to explain the situation, as he knew it. He himself was still reeling in shock from the news his brother Bo had given him this morning. "Apparently Abe, John Thomas was not Hope's son. It is possible that two babies were switched at the hospital the night that J.T. and Isaac were born. Now, we're not saying that Isaac is Hope's, we're just checking out all possible avenues."  
  
Abe barely registered what Roman was saying. A baby switch? How unbelievably absurd!  
  
"NO!" Lexie screamed, throwing Abe out of his shock. "She can't have him! She's always been jealous of my healthy son! And now that her son is dead, she wants to take Isaac away from me!"  
  
"Calm down, Lexie." Roman turned to the hysterical woman. "No one is trying to take your son from you. But if in fact Isaac is Hope's baby, then she has a right to her son."  
  
"NEVER!" She hurled, crazed anger clearly portrayed in her wild eyes. "She will NEVER get my son!"  
  
"Lexie." Abe began, shocked at his wife's insane behavior. He turned to Roman with a heavy sigh, knowing what he had to do. His honest, ethical nature left him with no choice but to obey the law. "I'll go get Isaac." He turned and entered the house.  
  
"What?!" Lexie screamed as she barred his entrance into Isaac's room. "I can't believe that you are siding with them, AGAINST ME to take my baby away from me!"  
  
"I'm not siding with anyone, and I certainly don't want to lose Isaac. But I have no choice."  
  
"Yes you do. We can leave the country with Isaac. No one would ever find us." She pleaded.  
  
"Lexie, we haven't even taken the test yet. You're acting like you know what the results will be." He looked at her suspiciously.  
  
"I don't know anymore than you do!" she defended hotly. "It's just, what if? Hope and Bo raised J.T. all this time thinking that he was theirs and he wasn't. What if there was a mistake that night? What if we brought home the wrong little boy? Hope could take our son away from us. The boy that we have loved and adored for the past TWO years. Isaac! I can't lose him, Abe. We don't have to." She added softly, her chocolate brown eyes shining with cold determination.  
  
Abe considered his wife's words for many long minutes. He too was terrified of losing his son. He loved Isaac so much; he couldn't imagine life without him. They could leave the country. Stefano would certainly help them. Just as he was about to agree to her plans, the early morning sun flashed on the brooch that Lexie always at her neck. The jewel glinted and Abe clearly saw the emblem of the phoenix emblazed in fire. {No.} he thought to himself, the momentary temptation quickly fleeing. He would rather lose his son to good honest people then let him be raised in a house of Dimeras.  
  
He stepped around his wife and entered his son's room. "This is a court order, Lexie. It's the law." He said simply.  
  
"And you always obey the law, don't you Abe?" she sneered derisively.  
  
He looked at his cold vicious wife. "You used to love that about me." He said softly.  
  
"That was before you put the law above your own family. Above your wife and son!"  
  
Lexie tried one last desperate gambit to keep Abe from having their son tested. She knew that everything would be all over for her once the results of the test were in. She would lose her son.  
  
She turned to her husband. "Right now Abraham, you are making a choice. If you go through with this test, if you choose the law over your own family, then we are over. I will never forgive you Abe." She added, her voice cracking on her last words. "You might as well find somewhere else to stay tonight, because you won't be welcome here."  
  
Abe looked at the stranger who was his wife. "I don't want to be welcome here."  
  
Abe gently picked up his sleeping son from the wooden crib. Isaac gurgled happily in his sleep at his father's touch. His son's sleepy smile tore at Abe's heart. Without any further words the husband and wife followed Roman to the testing lab. Minutes later the technician handed the boy back into Abe's arms after taking a sample. Lexie promptly snatched her son from Abe's arms.  
  
Abe simply gave their names to the technician. "Abraham Carver. And this is Lexie Carver."  
  
"No." Lexie spoke up, her voice ringing with steel. "My name is Alexandra Dimera." 


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty-Eight  
  
Friday midmorning.  
  
"Ok, sheet music.check, application forms.check, audition letter.check." Chloe mumbled to herself as she ran down her checklist of items she would need for her audition Sunday. When she was satisfied that she had all of her audition materials together, she then turned her attention to the overflowing suitcase lying open on her bed. Crammed into her suitcase were no fewer than seven changes of clothing, not counting sleepwear. Sleepwear. She smiled slyly and pulled out a plastic bag that had been hidden in her dresser. She pulled out the contents of the Victoria's Secret bag and looked at the royal blue satin nightie that she had bought especially for this weekend. Chloe tried to imagine the look on Brady's face when he saw her wearing the clingy nightgown. {Surely this will bring us closer together.} she thought to herself.  
  
With a start, she shook herself out of her reverie. She went back to her dresser and pulled out a small bag from the Salem Place pharmacy. She pulled out a box of condoms and hurriedly threw them into her suitcase; she couldn't bring herself to look at the box. Her cheeks blazed as she remembered her mortifying trip to the drugstore yesterday. She had been so nervously embarrassed by even being in the vicinity of the condom display that she hurriedly grabbed the first box she saw and fled the aisle. It had taken all of her strength to coolly stand in line and pay for the items nonchalantly, as if she does this all the time.  
  
Chloe took a deep, calming breath and tried to look forward to their trip. Of course she knew that the real reason for their excursion to New York was for her Julliard audition, which she was still very nervous about. But while they were there, they planned to enjoy themselves. Brady was going to show her some of the sights of the city in hopes of inspiring her, like he had done last summer. There would be Broadway shows, dinner, dancing, and afterwards. Chloe blushed again as she thought of Saturday night, in their nice hotel suite.  
  
She jumped at a loud knock on her door. "Come in!" She called and quickly slammed the lid down on her suitcase as Nancy entered. Nancy smiled at Chloe's suspicious nervousness.  
  
"Chloe, sweetie, we need to have a little talk."  
  
Chloe turned an innocent face to her mother. "About what, Mom?"  
  
"About you and Brady. And this weekend."  
  
"About us?" Chloe repeated innocently.  
  
Nancy hid a small smile as she remembered giving her own mother a similar face when she was Chloe's age. "Yes. I know that the two of you have become very serious, and that you have 'special' plans for this weekend. (After Chloe's stunned look) I'm not dense! I know what you are thinking.  
  
I want you to know that I would never even DREAM of allowing my teenage daughter to spend the weekend with a man who is over THREE years older than she.under normal circumstances, that is. But you and Brady are anything but normal, as is your relationship. You two are already, by your very natures, more mature than most kids your age. Your experiences in the last few months have made you even more so. Your ordeal at the hands of your foster father has strengthened the already very strong bonds between you and Brady. I know that."  
  
Nancy walked slowly around the room as she continued talking, lost in her painful memories of just three months ago. "You almost died then. I almost lost you, but Brady brought you back to me. For that reason alone, have I been willing to overlook the late nights at Brady's loft when you finally come home with your hair disheveled, blouse untucked. You know I could bring Brady up on charges of statutory rape." Nancy turned a serious face to her daughter.  
  
Chloe flew off the bed, furious that her mother could even use the words rape and Brady in the same sentence. Chloe knew what rape was, more than anyone had a right to. "Nancy! We haven't even done anything, yet!"  
  
Chloe stopped, horrified when Nancy lifted the lid to her suitcase. Nancy held up the box of condoms. "Yet being the operative word, I see." Nancy took a second look at the package and her eyes visibly bulged from their sockets. "Ahem." She cleared her throat and Chloe thought she could detect a faint blush on her mother's face. Nancy replaced the condoms back in the suitcase and sat down on the bed. She motioned for her daughter to join her. Chloe sat beside her mother.  
  
"Chloe, what I'm trying to say is that while I'm not thrilled about your decision to further your relationship with Brady, I do understand. Just promise me that you will be careful, and safe, and if you are the least bit unsure, then don't do it. And don't let Brady pressure you into anything you aren't ready for."  
  
Chloe smiled. "No problem there." She said softly. She threw her arms around her mother and kissed her cheek. "Thanks Mom."  
  
Nancy smiled and got up to leave Chloe's room. "You're welcome, sweetie. Have fun, and I will see you when you get back on Monday." Nancy opened the door and turned back to her daughter. "Oh, and if Brady hurts you, I will kill him."  
  
Chloe smiled at her mother's retreating back. {Oh! I better call Brady, find out when he's coming to get me.}  
  
  
  
Meanwhile in the living room of the Brady home, Brady stood with his sister and his cousin Shawn. The Blacks and the Bradys, as well as a few Hortons, had gathered together to lend their support to Bo and Hope while they awaited the results of Isaac's tests. Mickey Horton was there also to offer his services as a lawyer. He turned to his beloved niece. "The lab technician as well as a court-appointed attorney will be here shortly with the results. Our next step, should the results prove your claim, will be to sue for immediate temporary custody while permanent custody is being determined."  
  
Hope nodded simply at her uncle's advice. Right now, she could only think of those tests, and what they would prove.  
  
Shawn sent a disgusted look to the ceiling above him. He turned to his girlfriend Belle. "Do you believe this? J.T. is not even cold in the ground and they are already trying to replace him!" He said angrily.  
  
"Shawn." Belle moved to comfort him. She understood his anger, his frustration, his confusion. She too was still reeling from the news they had learned this morning. That the little brother she thought she had, and lost, was not her brother after all, and now there was another little kid who might be her brother. She turned confused, helpless eyes to her brother Brady.  
  
"It's just never going to end, is it?" Brady replied sympathetically. Suddenly, his cell phone rang and he answered it.  
  
"Hey Chloe. You all packed? (pause) I'll be there in a little while. Something came up." There was another pause and Belle and Shawn could tell that Brady was hesitant to tell Chloe what was happening.  
  
Shawn whispered over to Brady. "Why don't you have her join us here?"  
  
"Are you sure?" Brady asked as he held his hand over the receiver.  
  
"Yeah. She's been with us through everything else. It doesn't seem right for her not to be here now. Besides, I want her here. I would have called her, but my mind has been elsewhere."  
  
"Okay." Brady replied, relieved. He had wanted to have her support, have her by his side through this unbelievable mess.  
  
Chloe arrived shortly to the controlled chaos that was the Brady household. She was relieved to notice that she wasn't the only non-family person here. She immediately went up to Shawn and hugged him.  
  
"How are you doing?" she asked him sincerely. They had grown very close since the night J.T. died and now, to see the renewed pain on his face nearly broke her heart.  
  
Shawn replied with a mirthless grin. "I'm here. I'm breathing. At least I think I am." Chloe hugged him again and then left him and Belle alone in search of Brady.  
  
She found him a short distance away sitting by himself on an upholstered chair. She kissed his cheek lightly and hugged him. "How are you holding up, Brady?"  
  
He gifted her with a crooked grin and sad eyes. "You know, I honestly don't know. This is just too much. Learning that Belle and I have a brother, burying that brother only to learn later that he wasn't our brother. Now we have a new brother? When will it end?"  
  
As Chloe went about comforting Brady, in the kitchen of the Brady house, Hope Brady was fixing another pot of strong coffee. Bo wrapped his arms around his lovely wife and kissed her cheek. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Bo, I have done everything I can think of to keep myself busy. If those results don't get here soon, I may very well go crazy!" she sighed in nervous anticipation.  
  
"Well if keeping 'busy' is the problem, then I think I have the solution." Bo replied with a sexy grin as he bent down to kiss her soft lips.  
  
Hope was about to reply when there was a knock on their kitchen door. She was surprised to see Abe standing on her back porch.  
  
"Bo, Hope, can I come in?" Abe asked quietly.  
  
"Of course!" Hope exclaimed. Momentary awkwardness filled the room. "Abe, I am so sorry to be doing this to you." Hope said sincerely.  
  
Abe smiled at her and Bo. "No. I understand. You want your son."  
  
Hope spoke up, nervously trying to ease her friend's pain. "We don't know that Isaac is mine. We're just checking all the possibilities."  
  
"I know." Abe replied simply.  
  
Bo turned to his friend and superior. "I heard about you and Lexie. I'm sorry."  
  
Abe chuckled humorlessly. "Don't be. We had our problems long before this."  
  
The minutes ticked by and the house was filled with nervous chatter. People talked of mundane, boring subjects simply to pass the time and occupy their minds. Hope had remarked jokingly to her husband that if one more person asked her how she was, she would scream. But finally though, the torturous wait came to an end with an ominous knock on the front door.  
  
Silence fell on the house as the lab technician entered with the attorney. The tech held a locked briefcase. Abe, John, Hope and Bo moved forward to witness the reading of the results. The suitcase was unlocked and sealed envelopes were removed. Mickey recorded the reading for additional evidence.  
  
The tech spoke clearly, his voice easily heard throughout the still room. Breaths were held and hands grasped.  
  
"These are the results of Isaac Carver's maternity test." The technician spoke as he unsealed one of the envelopes. "The test resulted in a positive match. Hope Brady is the mother."  
  
Breaths were released throughout the room in an audible hiss of relief. Hope simply clutched Bo's hand while Abe turned a sickly gray. He quietly left the room. Quiet murmurs of shocked happiness echoed around the room.  
  
The lawyer held up his hand for everyone's attention and the room was once again silent. The technician continued. "These are the results of Isaac Carver's paternity test.. The test resulted in a negative match. John Black is not the father."  
  
If the earlier shock had been one of relieved happiness, then the shock that currently reverberated round the room was one of anguish and dismay. The smile on John's face quickly vanished, to be replaced by shock and then sad understanding. Hope turned a questioning gaze on John. If he wasn't the father, then who was?  
  
She began to tremble and shake when she saw the answer written on his face. There was only one other explanation. "no" she cried softly as her knees buckled. Bo swiftly caught his distraught wife and held her firmly in his grasp. "no" she cried into his arms. "Not him. Please God, not him." She murmured through her sobs. How was this possible?  
  
Confusion at Hope's response ran through the room. {So John wasn't the father. Isn't this a good thing?} thought many of the stunned occupants of the room. Shawn stood, conflicting emotions swirling through him. "Wait! If John isn't the father, then who is?" he cried out angrily.  
  
Belle and Brady turned expectant eyes on their father. He looked at them sadly and then turned his angry gaze to the floor.  
  
"Dimera." He said simply. "Stefano Dimera."  
  
There was no mistaking the loud gasps of horror. Stefano Dimera fathered Hope's baby? Renewed hatred for the bastard flooded the room as everyone concluded that he must have tricked Hope somehow. Many people remembered how confused she had been during the period of her life when J.T., no Isaac, was conceived. Pity and sympathy filled their hearts at the thought of what Hope must be going through.  
  
Mickey looked at Hope apprehensively. "This changes everything. If Stefano is Isaac's father, it may be more difficult to obtain permanent custody of the child. Because Lexie, through her father, now has a legitimate claim on your son. It essentially becomes a custody battle between two parents." Mickey paused when he saw Hope grow even more upset. "Of course if we can prove that.the act of conception.wasn't consensual then we would have a better chance of winning custody." Mickey grasped Hope's shoulder tenderly. "Besides, they still have to prove that Stefano's the father. Meanwhile, we have an appointment in one hour with the judge to decide temporary custody."  
  
"It may be a moot issue." Everyone's eyes turned to the doorway to the kitchen where Abe stood, cell phone in hand. "I can't get an answer at the mansion."  
  
Hope looked at Abe and struggled for comprehension while an icy terror settled on her spirit. Ghost visions played in her head, dreamy déjà vu. She was holding her son in her hands, while two dark specters tried to snatch him from her grasp. "She wouldn't. Would she?" She turned questioning eyes to Abe and what she saw reflected in his deep brown eyes confirmed her worst fears.  
  
"She's gone. And she's taken my son." 


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Twenty-Nine  
  
  
  
Colin entered the Brady Pub and was immediately impressed by the number of people inside. It wasn't the number that was impressive; the pub was usually hopping this time of day. No, what was impressive was that none of the many people bustling around the small restaurant were paying customers; the pub was closed.  
  
In the hours following that morning's horrific discovery of Lexie's sudden departure, the pub had been transformed into a makeshift headquarters and support center for Bo and Hope. A palpable aura of nervous energy hung in the air and there was a constant hum of people talking. Occasionally a loud outburst would erupt in the room as someone expressed their anger over their present situation. At times, quiet muffled sobs could be heard, the sound of a mother's breaking heart.  
  
Colin took it all in in a second with a quick glance at the crowded pub. He saw John and Marlena by themselves at a booth in the corner. John was angrily barking orders into his cell phone while his wife tried unsuccessfully to calm him down. Abe, Roman, and Bo were gathered together near a table. Abe and Roman carried on their own conversations on their sleek digital phones, while Bo scowled at a laptop computer screen.  
  
On the other side of the pub, Hope sat a booth surrounded by friends and family who sought to comfort her. Despite the many yards that separated them, Colin could easily see the pain and fear on her tear-stained face. His heart twisted within him at the familiar emotions that she displayed. He knew exactly what she was going through.  
  
With a slight, but firm shake of his head, he resolutely shut down the painful memories of the past. He had to focus on the present. He made his way over to the senior Shawn Brady where he stood behind the counter making coffee.  
  
"Uncle Shawn. I came as soon as I could. Has there been any news?"  
  
Shawn sadly shook his head, his heart heavy for his family's pain, a pain he knew all too well. "Nae, not a single clue. Even despite Abe's federal contacts and John's- I don't even want to know - sources, there hasn't been any information on Stefano and Lexie's whereabouts. It's like they just dropped off the face of the earth."  
  
"Well, disappearing IS one of Stefano's many talents. Even my friends at Interpol aren't having any luck. There are just too many places where they could be." Colin stole a quick glance at Bo and noticed the tension in his posture, the quiet fear in his eyes. "You know, Bo and I may have had our differences, but I certainly would never have wished this on him. On anyone." He murmured quietly.  
  
"Aye, 'tis been a long, cruel week for my son. And I'm afraid it's about to get worse."  
  
Colin nodded thoughtfully. "As horrible as this all is, I can't help but feel a little relieved. Stefano is gone and Chloe is safe. He wasn't here for her after all."  
  
Shawn nodded in agreement and a small smile reflected in his eyes. "Aye, tha 'tis a relief. Where is she now, anyways? I saw her this mornin' at Bo and Hope's."  
  
"She and Brady have left for New York already. She has her Julliard audition this weekend."  
  
"I guess Chloe and Brady are well on their way to New York now." Belle said thoughtfully in search of to occupy her boyfriend's mind.  
  
Shawn looked up from his plate of uneaten food; a Brady burger and fries, courtesy of Grandma Caroline. "Huh? Oh yeah. Guess so. I'm glad that they are at least able to get away from this mess."  
  
Shawn chuckled in spite of his dark mood. Chloe and Brady practically had to be forced on their trip. After the shocking discovery of Isaac's kidnapping, she and Brady had wanted to stay behind to support Shawn and his family. But Shawn had been adamant. "No, you are going to this audition, you're going to enjoy yourself in New York this weekend. And that's final!"  
  
Chloe had finally reluctantly agreed after Shawn programmed his cell # onto the speed dial on her cell.  
  
"See? Now I'm just a button press away. Now get going! Call me when you get there." He had told her as she and Brady were leaving.  
  
Brady had likewise wanted to stay to help his father. He knew that John was hurting deeply over the news that he wasn't Isaac's father. And that he was handling it in typical John Black fashion, by burying his pain under a mask of cold anger. It took a great deal of arguing and finally a direct order from John to make Brady leave with Chloe. Brady kissed Belle goodbye on her head. "Keep an eye on Dad for me, 'kay Tink? I'll talk to you later!" And with that, the young couple was on their way.  
  
Belle smiled at the memory of Brady driving away in his Jeep. She knew of Chloe's 'plans' for the weekend and wondered what her brother's reaction would be. {His jaw is going to hit the floor when he sees Chloe in her lingerie.}  
  
She shook away her naughty thoughts and looked across the booth to where Shawn was absentmindedly playing with a ketchup-laden, lukewarm french fry. She reached over and placed her hand over his.  
  
"How are you dealing, with all this 'mess'?" she asked to use the word he had used earlier.  
  
"I'll let you know when I figure it out." He glanced over to where his mother was silently weeping for her missing son. Belle could see the sympathetic pain reflected in his brown eyes for his mom. He sighed deeply and turned back to Belle. "This is just too much."  
  
"That's not good enough, DAMMIT!" John yelled into his phone, uncaring of the curious stares that he was drawing. Marlena placed a restraining hand on his taut shoulder only to have him shrug it off. She simply sighed and rolled her eyes, accepting the fact that her husband was once again in one of those 'mercenary' moods. She had no idea who he was talking to, and was pretty sure that she didn't want to know.  
  
"I want every available man you've got looking for this guy. He's done too much to too many people to just ignore. And now he's added kidnapping to the list. (pause) Listen Nick, you owe me. I'm callin' in my marker. I don't care what it takes to find him, just do it." John finished quietly and snapped his tiny cell phone shut. He sat down at the booth and steepled his fingers together under his chin.  
  
Marlena sat across from him and turned concerned eyes on her husband. She had seen him like this before, always in times of crisis; dark, angry, dangerous. She knew that it was a holdover from his years as Stefano's personal soldier, but the knowledge didn't quite erase the twinge of fear she felt when she saw her loving husband act this way.  
  
John felt his wife's questioning gaze and threw up a defensive wall around his emotions. Later, when they were alone, when he'd had a chance to process everything, only then would he tell her what he was feeling. Right now, he didn't know how to feel. For two years he had had a son. A son he couldn't raise, love, or hell, even acknowledge. But he had had a son. This week he buried the son that he had so secretly loved. Then he learned that that boy wasn't his son, that another little boy was. And now that hope too is dashed with the results from one simple test. Two years of secret anguish, fear and turmoil. For nothing.  
  
All because Stefano Dimera had played yet another trick on him. And for that he would pay.  
  
Bo sighed and quickly vacated his seat. His eyes had grown tired from staring at the computer screen for so long. He had finally given up when the in-depth government records were beginning to blur before his eyes. He glanced around the pub and again marveled at the number of people who were here to support he and his wife. He looked for Hope and found her standing alone looking out the diner's windows at the world outside. He went to stand beside her and wrapped his arms around her.  
  
She laid her head back against his chest. "I dreamed this." She said as her eyes stared vacantly out into space. "I dreamed that they would take my son. Even before I knew he was my son, I dreamed that they were stealing Isaac out of my arms." Small tears formed in her eyes. "And now they have." She whispered hoarsely as new tears found their way down her cheeks.  
  
Bo hugged her closely to him, wishing he knew how to comfort her. "I'm so sorry, Fancy Face." He said simply.  
  
She turned grateful eyes to her husband. "Thank you. I know that this is strange for you; fighting for a kid you don't know. It's hard to explain how important that little boy is to me. It's like we already have this strong connection. I felt it every time I held that sweet boy in my arms. I knew he was mine. This doesn't replace what I felt for J.T., what I still feel for him. Nothing ever will. But I need my little boy, Bo. I need to feel him in my arms again." She cried to him, her eyes pleading.  
  
"You will. I promise that we will get our son back."  
  
  
  
Stefano surveyed the grounds before him, a rare look of extreme pleasure on his face. "This will do perfectly." He grinned at the sniveling man before him.  
  
"I'm glad it meets your approval." Rolfe said with a large wagging smile.  
  
Stefano glanced back at the castle behind him. "I trust that Alexandra has gotten settled in?"  
  
"Yes, boss. She and the child are feeling quite at home."  
  
"Good." Stefano's grin widened. "You know, I could not have planned this better myself. Our impromptu departure from Salem could not have come at a better time. While all of Salem is looking for Isaac, I will be free to act on my true plan. Come this Sunday, Chloe Lane will be mine." 


	30. Chapter Thirty

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Thirty  
  
Chloe slowly blinked open her eyes and wondered for a moment where she was. Then she realized that she was still in the Jeep with Brady. The dashboard clock showed 2:00 AM. Chloe stretched and yawned tiredly.  
  
"Oh, you're finally awake, I see." Brady smiled at her, his eyes trained on the dark freeway before them.  
  
"Yeah, I don't remember falling asleep, though." She yawned again, growing more alert.  
  
"Yeah, well I do. You've been snoring for the last three hours." He cracked.  
  
Chloe violently wished for a pillow to smack him over the head with. "I do NOT snore!" she cried vehemently.  
  
"Tell THAT to the rattling windows." He quipped back. He saw her scowling face and crossed arms. "I'm just kidding. You didn't snore THAT loudly. It was actually kind of cute."  
  
Chloe softened despite herself.  
  
"Anyway, did you sleep okay?" he asked with a concerned tint to his voice. While she slept she had twitched a few times, apparently caught in a dream. She had moaned softly and Brady wondered if she was having a nightmare. Then suddenly it was over.  
  
"I slept great. There's just something about riding in a car on the highway that makes me sooo sleepy. But I think I dreamt about something. But I can't remember what it was. It was kind of disturbing. Not that that's unusual, or anything."  
  
Brady nodded silently. Chloe had had horribly vivid dreams following her traumatic experience at Christmas and even though the dreams were less frequent, he knew that she still had them occasionally. He reached over to gently grasp her hand.  
  
"It will get better." He told her softly.  
  
"I know." Chloe gazed out the window at the dark world outside. Trees bathed in moonlight flew past in a blur. She craned her neck back to look up at the clear sky. The stars twinkled down on her as if to say "hello!" A lighted sign went past that read "Welcome to Pennsylvania."  
  
"Wow." Chloe remarked. "We've covered quite a distance."  
  
"Yeah," Brady sleepily replied. "We've only got about five hours to go." He yawned deeply and shifted in his seat.  
  
Chloe grinned at her sleepy boyfriend. "Do you want me to drive for awhile?" She asked seriously.  
  
He cocked an eyebrow. "You? Drive MY Jeep? I don't think so."  
  
"What? I'm a good driver."  
  
"And how would you know that? I can count on ONE hand the number of times you've driven a car."  
  
Chloe slumped in her seat, a slight pout to her full lips. "I can't believe you don't trust me to drive your car." She said sullenly.  
  
He looked at her seriously and then turned his gaze back to the road. "It's not you I don't trust." He said softly. "Chloe, there are some crazy, dangerous people out on these roads. If something were to happen, I at least have more driving experience. It's not about you, okay?" He kept his eyes firmly on the road and with one hand gently caressed Chloe's cheek.  
  
She smiled at his puppy dog expression and brightened. "Okay." She chuckled when a hot red sports car blew past them in the passing lane. "You sure don't drive like other guys your age."  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked as he checked his rear view mirror.  
  
She motioned at the sports car that was now quickly leaving them in its wake. "Could you BE driving any slower? My MOM drives faster than you." She quipped.  
  
"I'll have you know that I am going FIVE miles above the speed limit." He countered huffily.  
  
"That's my point. Most guys go MUCH faster. I mean, Phillip drove like a maniac."  
  
"Yeah, well that's because he IS a maniac." Brady smiled. He then grew serious. "Besides, MOST guys don't have the most precious thing in the world riding with them in the passenger seat. I'm willing to drive a little slower if it means your safety."  
  
Chloe's heart melted in her chest at his sincere words. "Brady." she sighed and placed her hand on his knee. She turned her wide blue eyes toward him. "You know I was just kidding, right?"  
  
He smiled his wide Brady Black grin. "Of course. Listen, we'll stop at this next rest stop and I'll get some more caffeine to keep me awake."  
  
They pulled into the well-lighted parking lot and exited the Jeep, locking the doors behind them. The men and women's restrooms were located in separate buildings so Brady walked her to the ladies' room before heading over to the men's side.  
  
After seeing to her body's needs, she washed her hands and then her face. She stood looking at her face in the mirror and tried to recall her strange dream. She seemed to remember her foster father's nightmare face, laughing at her, pointing a gun at her. She also remembered trying to swim in a heavy, dark liquid but a heavy weight kept pulling her down. Chloe shuddered and cleared her mind of the strange visions.  
  
She gasped when suddenly the lights in the restroom went out. She was bathed in complete, suffocating blackness.  
  
"Hello?" she called out, believing a maintenance worker must have accidentally shut off the lights. "There's someone in here!"  
  
"Yes, there is." A strange voice whispered behind her. Chloe whirled to react only to have a gloved hand clamp down over her mouth. She felt a sharp knifepoint press into her throat and a hot breath on her neck.  
  
"Do what I say and you won't get hurt." The disembodied voice whispered into her ear.  
  
Chloe was paralyzed by fear, remembering so many times with her foster father, when he raped her repeatedly. But as quickly as the fear had washed over her, she remembered her self-defense training and immediately took action. The complete absence of light did not hamper her fighting one bit as she grabbed both of the attacker's wrists and twisted out of his grasp.  
  
"BRADY!" she yelled as soon as her mouth was free. She maintained her hold on his wrists and bent them backwards, causing him to drop the knife and gasp in pain. She then tugged on his arms, pulling him forward and down while simultaneously bringing her knee up to land hard against his face. A spinning roundhouse finished the job and Brady rushed in the now lighted bathroom to find Chloe standing over her would-be attacker with a satisfied smirk on her face.  
  
He looked at the unconscious man on the floor and back at Chloe. "Are you okay?" She nodded simply. She was smiling and shaking at the same time. "We should probably get out of here. What should we do about him?" Brady asked.  
  
They finally decided to simply leave him there. Brady hated the idea of the bastard getting away with what he had tried to do, but Chloe just wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible. She didn't want to worry about pressing charges and all of the extra time that it would require.  
  
Brady looked over at his silent passenger with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
Chloe smiled back at him. "Actually, I'm feeling pretty good. When he first grabbed me, I was instantly reminded of Dr. Moore, and I couldn't move from the fear that I felt. But then my fighting instincts just took over and the fear vanished." Her smile widened in a proud grin. "I kicked his butt!"  
  
Brady looked at her proudly and grinned also. "Yeah you did. I'm proud of you." He glanced down at the clock. "You know, suddenly I am wide awake."  
  
He clicked on the radio and surfed through the stations before finally landing on a station playing a soft love song. He began to sing along, softly at first and then growing to fill the vehicle. They roared down the highway with the windows down and the cool night air blowing through their hair.  
  
Chloe breathed deeply and closed her eyes. She listened contently to Brady's soothing lullaby, feeling all of her earlier fear and tension dissipate. Her eyelids grew heavy from the rhythmic beating of the tires on the highway and from the rich music floating in the air. Before she knew it she was asleep once again. This time she dreamed of a time long ago where another man had once sung to her and claimed her heart.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
. 


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Thirty-One  
  
She stood on the stone terrace over looking the castle grounds. Rhianna watched the early morning sun splay its golden rays over the rolling green hills that lay before her. A sudden gust lifted up her red gold tresses and held them momentarily suspended in the air. She closed her eyes and breathed in the rich spring fragrant air. She was still amazed by the beauty of the place that she called home.  
  
As she stood there serenely watching the world come to life, she sensed another presence on the stone balcony. She didn't turn to see who it was; she already knew. She smiled as his strong arms wrapped around her waist; hugging her body closely to his. She looked down at the tanned muscular arms encircling her waist and lightly caressed the rough skin. Her hands found his and their fingers reflexively intertwined. She smiled when a lightly bearded chin nuzzled at her neck. A soft, rich voice sang in her ear.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
Chloe smiled happily in her sleep and continued her light snoring.  
  
Brady looked at his sleeping angel. How was it possible that she was this beautiful? Acting on impulse, he leaned over and kissed her full lips, eliciting a soft moan from the sleeping girl.  
  
"Good morning, Chloe."  
  
Snore.  
  
"Chloe, wake up."  
  
Chloe fluttered open her eyes and looked around her. "what?" she asked sleepily. "I was having a nice dream."  
  
"I'll bet you were. You're about to miss your first look at New York."  
  
She yawned and stretched her legs. "We're there already? That was a short trip."  
  
Brady chuckled. "Yeah it is, if you sleep the whole way."  
  
Chloe wanted to reply but was too engrossed in the breathtaking view before her. Brady glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to see her reaction.  
  
The city lay stretched out before them; the buildings reflecting the golden morning light. It was already a beautiful day; the buildings stood tall against a cloudless blue sky. Chloe was speechless. They were not even in the city, yet she could still feel the energetic spirit radiating from the vibrant city.  
  
Her gaze soon drifted as her eyes were magnetically pulled to a gaping hole in the skyline where the twin towers of the World Trade Center had once majestically stood. She glanced over at Brady to find him gazing at the same place.  
  
He gifted her with a small smile. "It's so different now."  
  
"Have you been here before? Before 9-11?" She asked.  
  
He answered while concentrating on the growing traffic on the freeway. "Yeah. Senior year at the boarding school. Some friends and I took a road trip and this was one of our stops. I know some great places here."  
  
They drove into the city and soon found themselves in the heart of downtown. Even at 7 am on a Saturday the city was alive and bustling with energy. As Brady competently maneuvered his jeep down the city streets Chloe craned her neck to look at the various buildings as they passed.  
  
"Wow! The buildings are soo big!"  
  
Brady laughed at her childlike enthusiasm. Chloe's eyes darted rapidly from one building to another; she didn't want to miss a thing. She was amazed at the different architectural styles. Some buildings were classic Greek, others Art Deco, and still others ultra Modern.  
  
They came to a large, old structure in the heart of the arts district. Brady motioned to the large gray stone building.  
  
"That is where we are staying. We have a suite on the top floor."  
  
Chloe's eyes widened with delight. "Brady! It's so wonderful." Her eyes took in the graceful designs of the exterior.  
  
"And it's walking distance to everywhere we need to be. Broadway, the Met, Julliard. And we can always take a bus to anywhere else we want to go." (A\N: I know squat about NY. I've never had the fortune to go there, although I'd love to. So just ignore my blaring errors, okay?)  
  
They checked into their hotel and took their bags up to their room. Chloe grabbed a quick shower and then changed into a cotton dress with a light sweater over it. While Brady was showering, Chloe gazed out the window at the view. They were so high up, and a great deal of New York was visible to her. She could even make out the trees of Central Park.  
  
"You like?" Brady asked as he came out of the bathroom wearing casual slacks and a blue button down shirt.  
  
"Oh Brady, it's unbelievable!" she breathed as she once again looked around at their spacious suite. It was beautiful, elegant. {Perfect for tonight.} she thought.  
  
"Sorry about the bed. I had specifically requested two beds." Brady sighed in annoyance.  
  
Chloe hid a small smile. "Don't worry about it. You said all the other rooms were taken, right? We'll just have to make do with this large, king- size bed." She smirked.  
  
They went to breakfast at a little family run diner that Brady knew of. It was just down the street from their hotel, so they walked the distance, enjoying the spring morning. Their food was fantastic. Pancakes, of course, with all the toppings that a good pancake dinner requires. Chloe patted her full tummy.  
  
"Yummy. Now what?"  
  
They had no specific agenda in mind, so they just began walking down the streets enjoying the sights of New York. Before long they had reached the financial district. An idea suddenly formed in Brady's mind and he walked over to an elderly woman selling flowers on the street. He carefully selected two white roses and paid the smiling vendor. Chloe smiled when she saw the delicate flowers.  
  
"Don't get too excited. They aren't for you." Brady told her. He took her hand in his and walked further down the street toward a destination that he had in mind. As they strolled down the bustling streets, their fingers intertwined and their arms swayed in unison between them. They walked past a fire station where people had placed signs reading, "God Bless You." They walked past brick walls where graffiti letters said, "New York lives on." They walked past a police station where a large banner simply declared, "New York's Finest." They walked past telephone poles where pictures of people were tacked, with the sad caption, "Missing as of 9-11." After many quiet minutes, Brady finally stopped.  
  
"We're here." He said quietly.  
  
Chloe sucked in her breath, suddenly moved with powerful emotion. Before them was a makeshift memorial to the victims of September 11th. There were countless cards, signs and banners, countless bouquets of flowers. In the center of one display was a handmade sign stating, "We won't forget." Chloe looked around them and found many other people there, weeping, paying their respects to those lost on that dark day.  
  
Hot tears burned Chloe's eyes. "It's amazing. Six months have passed. Yet, it's like no time at all."  
  
"Time passes very slowly when you lose someone you love." Brady replied hoarsely. "And everyone here lost someone. Even if they didn't personally know someone who died, they collectively lost. Part of New York died that day."  
  
They stood in silence, side by side, hands locked together, fingers laced. They brought back to mind the memories of that day and uttered a quiet prayer for the many suffering souls in a deeply wounded city. Then wordlessly, they dropped their white roses on the ground. 


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Thirty-Two  
  
"Hey, whatcha thinkin' about?" Chloe asked, trying to sound casual.  
  
Brady looked over at the beautiful woman at his side. "Oh, I was just thinking about everything. J.T., Isaac."  
  
Chloe could feel his pain despite his attempt to keep his tone light. She took his hand in hers and silently waited for him to continue.  
  
They were walking to their hotel after a wonderful evening out. First Brady had taken her to dinner at a romantic Italian restaurant where they had eaten a fantastic dinner and danced to soft classical music. Then they had gone to see "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway and Chloe had been moved by the amazing performances. The star performers sang "All I Ask of You" and Brady and Chloe looked deeply into each other's eyes and smiled. Chloe wondered how the night could possibly be any more magical as they walked together under the stars and the lights of the city. She thought of her 'plans' for the evening and smiled. She linked her fingers with Brady's and squeezed his hand lightly to give him support.  
  
Brady inhaled lightly. "I just wonder how Dad is. I mean, I had just begun to get used to the idea of having a little brother when we found out the truth, and it's still kind of hard to deal with. Dad has spent the last two years believing he had a son, only to find out that he didn't. I know how Dad is. I know that this is hurting him more than he's letting on." Brady remembered how his father looked and acted yesterday. "If I know him, he's burying his pain underneath his anger, his hatred of Stefano Dimera." He paused and locked eyes with Chloe. "I'm afraid that in his desire for revenge, he'll do something.reckless, stupid, dangerous. He's going to take on Dimera only to get himself killed." Brady finished quietly.  
  
"And you wish you were there, to stop him, calm him." Chloe stated sympathetically.  
  
He smiled wryly. "Even if I were there, I wouldn't be able to stop him, not when he gets in one of his moods. No, I just have to hope and pray that Marlena can keep him calm and stable." He chuckled.  
  
Chloe looked down at the sidewalk that they were walking over. "I still can't believe it." She muttered quietly.  
  
"Believe what?"  
  
"That Mr. Dimera, Stefano, I mean, is this cruel, hateful person. The horrible crimes that he has committed, the things that he has done to half the people in Salem; it's just hard believing that the same nice man that I met at Princess Greta's coronation could be capable of such cruelty."  
  
Brady frowned thoughtfully. "I didn't know that you had met Stefano."  
  
"Yeah, we met on the plane over. We talked about opera and I sang for him. He really did seem to be such a nice person. But I guess appearances are deceiving."  
  
Chloe shuddered involuntarily. There was something about that man that suddenly frightened her, and she didn't know why. He'd always been so kind to her, very warm, caring. Then why did she feel like someone was walking on her grave?  
  
Brady looked down at her in concern. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Can we not talk about Stefano anymore? I don't want to think about poor Isaac, or what everyone's going through back home."  
  
Brady smiled. "Not a problem. This is supposed to be a vacation, anyway."  
  
Chloe fell silent and looked up at the stars. It was now Brady's turn to ask.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly  
  
She continued her study of the sky. "Do you remember when we first met? That night on the pier?"  
  
Brady lightly kissed the back of her hand. "How could I forget?"  
  
She smiled, lost in the memory. "Oooooh, how I hated you that night. And many nights after." She added thoughtfully. "I hated you cause you got under my skin. I felt naked before you, despite my heavy black clothes and glasses. You could see me, and it terrified me."  
  
"Well, it wasn't exactly one-sided you know. You had the same effect on me."  
  
She looked up at her love, into his blue eyes. "Do you ever wonder why that is? How we immediately knew each other, even though we had just met? We have this amazing connection between us, that at times has even allowed us to hear each other's thoughts, and we've never once wondered why that is."  
  
Brady thought about her words and looked up into the clear night sky. The stars twinkled and shone brightly and for a moment felt himself a part of something bigger. Forgotten dreams and half-remembered visions danced in the sky above him.  
  
Chloe joined him in his sky-gazing, wondering at the strange emotions that were washing over her. "Why do I feel so close to you?" she murmured quietly. "Why do I feel like we knew each other before, a long time ago?"  
  
Brady drew her close in his arms, unable to explain what he was feeling. "I don't know. All I know is that when I look at you, I feel like I've known you for forever. I know that I was born to love you."  
  
Later in the spacious bathroom of their hotel suite, Chloe nervously changed into her surprise for Brady. The satiny blue gown flowed over curves, hugging in just the right places, and ended mid thigh. The dark blue immediately made her eyes stand out from her face, making them sparkle. She put the tiniest amount of smoky eye shadow on her lids and flavored lip balm on her lips. She brushed her hair vigorously until it shone brightly.  
  
{Brady is going to be so surprised.} she thought to herself. He was in the other room, thinking that she was just getting ready for bed. {I'm getting ready, all right.} she smiled to relieve her anxiety. Hesitation fluttered through her mind and she momentarily wondered if this was the right way to bring the two of them closer. She squashed the doubts quickly. No, this was the best way to ease her worries over their uncertain future. Besides, she wanted to make love to Brady. Didn't she?  
  
She inhaled deeply and slowly opened the bathroom door. She shyly met Brady's stunned gaze and waited with baited breath for his reaction.  
  
Poor Brady nearly had a heart attack. Here he was, innocently watching the news and minding his own business, when Chloe comes out of the bathroom wearing what in the hell? She stood framed in the doorway, backlit from the bathroom light. Her figure stood out as a sharp silhouette from the thin material she wore. His eyes traveled over her body with a will of their own.  
  
Many painful seconds passed as he struggled for breath. "Chloe, what, what is this?"  
  
She looked at him, uncertainty visible in her wide blue eyes. "Do you like it?" she asked shyly.  
  
"Oh, I like." He answered with cave-man simplicity. He finally tore his gaze away from her luscious figure to look into her eyes. "Chloe." he questioned.  
  
Fearing that her courage would soon leave her, she propelled herself into his arms and kissed him passionately on his slack lips. His brain may have turned to Jell-O from the shocking turn of events, but his body knew what to do. His strong arms encircled her tiny waist pulling her even closer to him. He could feel her heat through the thin, silky gown and his arousal grew.  
  
His thirsting tongue darted through her parted lips and his hands busied themselves on her soft skin. He felt for the bed beside him and drew her down with him to lie on the soft satin sheets. His fingers tangled in her hair as their tongues continued their dance.  
  
Chloe's mind was spinning. This was happening so fast. She was scared but she didn't want to stop. She never thought she could feel this way after her past experiences. Her fingertips danced across Brady's hard back muscles. She moaned and moved beneath him.  
  
Brady's body was on fire and his brain had completely ceased to function. All he could think of was the warm, passionate woman beneath him who was currently driving him crazy. "Chloe," he breathed into her ear huskily as he lightly nibbled her neck.  
  
A vague realization dawned on him; this would be their first time together. His next fuzzy thought was why hadn't they yet made love. Then with a blinding rush, he remembered his reasons for waiting and his brain once again took control.  
  
"We can't." he breathed quietly. With a heavy sigh of regret, he pulled back from Chloe and broke their kiss. Brady sat quietly on the bed, struggling to compose himself.  
  
Slowly Chloe realized that something was wrong. She blinked rapidly to clear her glossy eyes and sat up on the bed. She stared at the silent, brooding man in front of her and felt tears well up in her eyes. He didn't want her.  
  
Brady risked a glance at Chloe and immediately saw the hurt rejection in her watery eyes. He knelt on the floor in front of her and took her wet face in his hands.  
  
"Don't you want me?" she asked in a small voice.  
  
He chuckled softly. "I want you so badly it hurts. When I am with you all I can think about sometimes is taking you in my arms and making love to you all night long."  
  
She raised her brows questioningly. "Then why." he shushed her by laying a forefinger on her pouting lips.  
  
He grasped her knees gently and looked up into her blue eyes. "When I was little, I believed in God. We went to church every Sunday, I said my prayers and read my bible stories. Then one day, I found out that Marlena wasn't my mom, that my real mom had died, she had been taken away from me. On that day, I stopped believing in Him. I wondered how He could be so good when he had taken my mother away from me. Then I met you and since then I've witnessed so many miracles that I can't help but believe again. You yourself are a walking talking miracle, a blessing from God, an angel come to earth."  
  
Chloe smiled and laughed at Brady's embellishments.  
  
Brady smiled and continued. "So I guess what I'm trying to say is, I want us to wait. Until we get married. I've done so many things wrong in my life; I want to do this right. I know it's going to be hard to not make love to you. REAL hard. Unbelievably hard. Nearly impossible. But it's important to me. You are important to me."  
  
Chloe's brain had stopped functioning after the mention of marriage. "You want to marry me?" she questioned again, to make sure her ears were in fact working.  
  
"Not right at this moment, but yeah. I've told you before, I don't remember my life before you, and I can't imagine my life without you. We are going to get married, someday, and I won't take no for an answer. You're stuck with me."  
  
Chloe laughed with joy and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek over and over. "I love you, Brady Black."  
  
"And I love you, Chloe Lane." He gave her one of his patented sexy grins. "I'm sorry your seduction didn't quite work out the way you wanted it to."  
  
"You should be! I went to a lot of work and suffered a great deal of humiliation for tonight." She replied huffily. "I even bought these!" She rummaged through her suitcase and brought out the box of condoms.  
  
Brady looked at the box and then took a second glance. He cleared his throat. "My, you certainly think very highly of me." He said with a pink blush on his cheeks.  
  
"What?" Chloe grabbed the box from his fingers and looked at it for the first time. It read in giant bold letters, EXTRA LONG JUMBO. Brady laughed at the deep red hue on her face. "I just grabbed the first box I saw. I didn't know there'd be different sizes."  
  
Brady erupted in laughter as Chloe chuckled. "This certainly explains the clerk's reaction." Chloe added.  
  
He continued chuckling as they snuggled together on the bed. He wrapped his arms around his love and gently stroked her hair. "Are you okay with us waiting?"  
  
She nodded wordlessly, feeling contented bliss creep over her. She lightly brushed her lips against his, and fell back against his chest, sleep overtaking her.  
  
"You realize, of course, that you just became Nancy's favorite person." 


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

Banshee Song Book One  
  
Chapter Thirty-Three  
  
Chloe moaned in her sleep and reflexively snuggled closer to Brady's warm body. He responded automatically by tightening his arms around her. They lay tangled in soft satin sheets wrapped in each other's arms. The dark hotel room was bathed in moonlight and the lights of the still-active city outside.  
  
Chloe fluttered her lashes against Brady's neck and clutched his chest. She was having the dream again. The same disturbing dream that had haunted her nights for months.  
  
God, no, she was back in that house. That dark, shadowy house where fear lived and despair dripped down the walls in thick, slimy rivulets. She was helpless, paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch the scene unfold before her.  
  
"Die, bitch!" her foster father yelled as he raised his evil gun to point at her head. He pulled the trigger, sending the small metallic assassin on a deadly course straight to her brain. Time stopped for Chloe. Eternity in a second. She could even see the Matrix-like shockwaves pulsating from the bullet as it flew toward her. She heard her father's maniacal laughter echo in the room.  
  
And then, horror of horrors, her love Brady jumped up in the path of the bullet, taking it in his body. She stood transfixed, horrified as the miniscule killer ripped through his body. He hung suspended in air for a horrible second before silently collapsing to the floor in a limp heap.  
  
No. Her soul screamed in silence. How was it possible that she could feel such pain and still live? Her heart still beat; her lungs still drew ragged breaths. Yet she was dying inside. She could feel him leaving her; his light was fading, his soul preparing to depart.  
  
She sank to her knees and cradled his lifeless body in her quaking arms. She caressed his still face with her trembling fingers. Questioning tears reflected in her blue eyes as she looked up at her foster father, the nightmare monster of her past.  
  
"Stupid kid." He sneered mockingly. "Now you're both going to die." He stated with a cold finality as he once again brought his gun to bear on her. He pulled the trigger and once again time stopped. Not just time. All reality seemed to bend and twist around her. Her physical surroundings melted into a shimmery clear liquid that pooled at her feet. She watched in fascination as the fluid rose up her body, quickly covering her head, quickly filling the boundless space.  
  
Chloe bucked in terror and kicked her legs. She was drowning. Drowning in visions and memories of another time, another life. Through the cold liquid she saw a warm, glowing light above her. She struggled against the fluid and headed for the surface. With a loud gasping breath, she finally broke through and found herself standing in a dimly lit tunnel. Beside her was a small, shallow puddle of water. She stared at the puddle and started at her reflection.  
  
A strange face stared back at her from the mirrored surface of the puddle. A pale porcelain face with a wild mane of bright red hair and piercing emerald eyes. Chloe tore her gaze away from her reflection and looked around her at the tunnel walls. She had barely begun to wonder where she was when she heard hurried footsteps heading toward her. She gasped in amazement when a girl wearing the same face as the one reflected in the puddle came running towards her. In one arm, she cradled a sleeping baby. The other arm hung tightly onto the man at her side.  
  
Chloe's breath caught in her throat at her first glimpse of the man. She had never seen him before in her life. But she recognized him. Recognized his soul.  
  
"Brady?" she whispered in a raspy voice.  
  
But the frantic couple paid no attention to her as they continued their panicked race down the tunnel. They were on a collision course with Chloe, and she shut her eyes and braced herself for the inevitable impact.  
  
Yet there was none. The ghost forms simply flowed through her like water through a sieve. She whirled around in shock and looked down at her body. Understanding dawned on her suddenly. They weren't the ghosts; she was.  
  
The breathless couple stopped suddenly and Chloe could barely make out a third person in front of them, blocking their way. He came slowly into view and once again Chloe felt her breath freeze.  
  
"Stefano Dimera." She murmured. It was him, all right. No mistake about that. He did appear to be older, though, but otherwise he exactly the same. Chloe watched the scene before her in morbid fascination. What was this she was seeing? Where were they, and who were the strangely familiar couple in front of her.  
  
She was still asking questions when suddenly Stefano pulled an antique looking pistol from his coat jacket and fired a bullet with precise aim at the other man.  
  
"Sheamus!" the woman screamed a heartrending cry. The name rocked through Chloe, chilling her to her core. She had known that name once.  
  
More people came running to the scene. A man and a woman, both also eerily familiar to Chloe. The first woman, apparently called Rhianna, gave the child in her arms to the new couple and bade them leave. Which they did, very reluctantly, leaving Rhianna to deal with the man who had murdered her love.  
  
Rhianna turned furious eyes on Stefano Dimera and Chloe felt power surge through the underground tunnel. She watched Rhianna with stunned eyes.  
  
Rhianna's green eyes rolled back into her head, and the now visible whites glowed brightly. Energy pulsed from the young woman and she floated several inches off of the stone floor. Chloe could hear singing from very far a way. Faint at first, but growing louder by the second.  
  
Rhianna's beautiful face was twisted in hate. She gazed upon her love's murderer, and with a dark smile, opened her mouth.  
  
{What is she doing?} Chloe was wondering when suddenly she was hit by an intense tidal wave of invisible force. She threw up her arms to block when she realized that the energy, whatever it was, was harmlessly passing through her. She watched Rhianna, frozen in amazement.  
  
{She's singing.} Chloe thought. {And her singing is causing this, this power.} Rhianna hovered in the air, her back arched and her head thrown back with the force of her song. Chloe winced as the singing grew louder and louder, the energy waves from Rhianna growing stronger and stronger.  
  
Chloe watched in horror as the swelling power suddenly erupted, lashing out at Dimera. He was bodily picked up by the force wave and dashed against the stone wall behind him. He slid bonelessly to the floor, resembling a rag doll.  
  
Rhianna gave a sad smile of vengeance and with one last breath, collapsed on the floor to join her love.  
  
Tears slid out of Chloe's eyes for the sad ending of the two young lovers. Why did this feel so familiar to her? She wept openly, feeling her heart break painfully.  
  
She was still weeping when again, reality shifted and she was once again in her father's house.  
  
"Stupid kid. Now you're both going to die." Her foster father pulled the trigger of the gun pointed at her head.  
  
She knew what she had to do. She felt the old song well up inside her, and she didn't hesitate to unleash it on the bastard who had just killed Brady. Power filled her, became her, terrified her. Ugly satisfaction played on her face as she saw her father thrown into the opposite wall.  
  
The power faded and she was empty, with nothing but her grief, and her guilt. She had taken a life. She had spilled blood. Blood flowed over her in dark, sticky rivers. Her vision swam and all she could see was blood, she was drowning in it. As it filled her lungs, she heard faint, mocking laughter and a face appeared before her.  
  
Chloe awoke with a start. She bolted upright, Stefano's face still dancing in her vision. Why had she been dreaming about Stefano? She wondered as she shivered in the cool night air. She jumped as she felt Brady's warm arms wrap around her.  
  
"Hey, what is it?" he asked sleepily, his eyes still half closed. "You have a bad dream?"  
  
Chloe simply nodded, too shaken up to say anything.  
  
"Come here," he murmured softly and held her closely against his bare chest.  
  
"Wow, what a beautiful campus!" Chloe exclaimed softly. She and Brady stood on the green grassy grounds of The Julliard School. It was a warm, spring day and the bright sunshine was helping to erase the disturbing memories of last night.  
  
"And think, soon you'll be living here." Brady told her with proud confidence.  
  
"Well, first I have to get through this audition." Chloe replied with a wry grin. "Speaking of which, shouldn't there be more people here?" she wondered as she looked around the sparsely populated campus.  
  
"Well, Andrews Hall is located on the other side of campus. That's probably where everyone else is. Come on." He said, taking her hand in his.  
  
They reached Andrews Hall and stopped uneasily. They looked at the construction scaffolds that were placed sporadically around the exterior. The building appeared to only be half built, as large portions of the interior were visible.  
  
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Brady asked uncertainly.  
  
Chloe showed him her letter in answer. They were still deciding whether to enter the building when Chloe noticed a small handwritten sign. "Auditions to the rear" with an arrow pointing to the back of the building. Brady shrugged his shoulders and they headed into the building.  
  
A thin man in a suit greeted them cheerily. He shook their hands vigorously and Brady felt like he had seen the man before. But he couldn't place it and simply put it out of mind as simple coincidence.  
  
"You must be our 1:00. Miss Chloe Lane, right?" the man asked while glancing down at a sign up sheet filled with names.  
  
Chloe nodded in reply.  
  
"Just a question. Why isn't anyone else here to audition?" Brady asked. He still couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that something was wrong.  
  
The man smiled nervously and paused before finally answering. "Ah, well, you see, uh, we had originally scheduled the auditions for a few weeks later. But we realized that we had uh, overbooked the auditions. I mean, there are only so many kids you can see in a day, right?" he laughed nervously, and Brady was again hit with the thought that he had met this guy before.  
  
"Anyhoo, we moved a few of the auditions to this date. You're the last one of the day, that's why you don't see anyone else here."  
  
"O-okay." Chloe replied with a small smile. That made sense.  
  
"Anyhoo, if you're ready, Miss Lane, you'll be singing in the auditorium to your left."  
  
Chloe and Brady moved in the direction that the man had indicated, when he suddenly stopped them. "Ah, sorry. You can't go in there." He said to Brady.  
  
A silent alarm sounded in Brady's head. "Why not?" he asked darkly.  
  
"Ah, well, we've found that friends and family tend to distract our applicants. Our judges like to see them alone. Uh, there's a room over there, though, where you can uh, watch the audition." The flustered man suggested.  
  
Brady still didn't like being separated from Chloe. He felt very uneasy about the whole situation and he hadn't forgotten her attack the other night in the rest stop bathroom. He turned questioning eyes to Chloe.  
  
"It's okay. I'll be all right." She assured him with a bright smile.  
  
"Okay, I'll be right next door, watching you. You're going to do wonderfully." He grinned at her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.  
  
Chloe waved to him and entered the auditorium. Brady watched her leave and then headed into the viewing room. He was immediately concerned by the lack of lights in the small room. His senses flared to life and he tensed, ready for a fight. He heard a muffled noise behind him and whirled around.  
  
He suddenly felt a sharp pain on the back of his head. Stars flashed before him and he collapsed to the ground. He heard a familiar voice in his ear. A voice he hated.  
  
"Sorry, little Black. I'm afraid you won't be coming to the rescue this time." Stefano laughed mockingly.  
  
Brady's last thought, before darkness overtook him, was of Chloe.  
  
Chloe entered the dark auditorium. "Hello?" she called out nervously. Shouldn't someone be here waiting for her? She heard a soft footstep and tensed.  
  
She gasped in terror when suddenly two arms grabbed her from behind. A hand holding a handkerchief clamped down on her mouth and she panicked to smell the strong chemicals. She twisted and kicked at her attacker, causing him to curse violently. But her struggle was useless as the chloroform slowly took effect. Her body slackened, her head filled with lead. She struggled once more, and then she too fell into darkness.  
  
End of Book One 


End file.
